A Ghost Story
by whatcatydidnext
Summary: In life Guy of Gisbourne sinned against God and man. Pride and ambition killed all he loved. For nearly a thousand years he wanders the confines of Nottingham, watching the follies and triumphs of humanity. In his punishment he encounters the shade of the deceiver Vaisey, still raging. Then child sees him, and smiles. As an old woman dies, she tells him his wait is nearly over...
1. Chapter 1

This started life as Guy haunting Nottingham Castle, but it sort of morphed...Thank you Jen darling xxxx

A Ghost Story 1.

He watched, he always watched. What else was there to do? These small people moved about so clumsily, stumbling between crisis and disaster, the two states only separated by periods of sleep or seemingly pointless activity. It was the only amusement to be had in the tedious hours he spent wandering the castle and town.  
>No, they called it a city now. It was no longer the walled, fortified town he had known. The buildings, fragile, like their occupants, had spread out and leeched into what had been green fields. The forest had gone, replaced by what they called motorways. He saw them as rivers of angry machines where all moved forward and back with pretended purpose.<br>It was the pretence that irritated him most. They pretended there was a point to what they did. All the storing up of useless objects, shuffling them from place to place, and all with such show of importance. He had looked over shoulders at lists carried and ticked off. Listened to intense conversations about orders, deliveries, and the failures of both. He had sat in alehouses as the same people discussed games and wagers. Loves won and lost, though they hardly seemed loves to him, so quickly were they replaced. The affections were so shallow that momentary separations seemed to actually cause new ardours to occur.  
>The churches were no different. Sin, it seemed, no longer existed. It had been replaced with mistakes; errors of judgement, unfortunate circumstances, or, worse still, the sinful act somehow became a virtue. If this were true, how was <em>he <em>still made to pay for sins that no longer appeared to be sins? Why was he to serve punishment for all his _mistakes_? It had enraged him at first, then as time went, it became anger, then annoyance. Now it was merely irritation.

There were things he understood to be improvements. Water was clean and in constant supply, but the people squandered it, as they squandered all else they had. Higher purpose did not seem to enter the lives of any he watched. All the years he had spent in his servitude to this place, he had noted only perhaps two or three instances of truly noble actions.  
>The first was by a soldier, at the time when the country had again split itself in two, populace against king. Intrigue and greed had paraded themselves as honesty and integrity once more, the guise of politics hiding the usual offences. The county had been for Parliament and the soldier wore a sash of sea green. He watched as the troops occupied the town. There had been only cheers from the people as the commanders took up residence in the best homes. The soldiery were billeted in wherever they could find shelter and comfort. But these men were different from those he had known. They did not dice or drink to excess, nor try to fornicate with any female available. These men sang psalms, shouted praises to God in the stead of crude oaths.<br>He listened to one particular man talk with his compatriots; the talk was of liberty, enfranchisement for all. He had scoffed at what the man said. That all were equal on this earth was clearly nonsensical. But he made them right when he thought of all the buffoons and greedy fools he had been forced to obey in his days of service.  
>There was innocence to the thoughts the men voiced, it made him long to join the debate. Perhaps it was not such nonsense. Perhaps they were right in other things too, that women Be man's helpmeet and boon companion, not his possession.<p>

He remembered his own wife. She had been small, but as he minded, bonny. She died of the sweating sickness within the first year of their marriage. He mourned her loss; she had kept him warm and satisfied, even made him laugh. The daughter she had given him was too small to survive without her mother, and she died also. But the marriage portion had been a tidy manor, which he kept, and it soothed the loss.  
>But she had long ago gained Paradise with their child; he doubted they would meet again. There had been other women, other loves gained but not earned. Even an unrequited longing for a pure lass who would not have him. Again his sins were too great for her to forgive. She too died.<p>

He stilled, it was growing light.


	2. Chapter 2

A Ghost Story 2

Dawn glowed orange over what had long ago been the battlements of his home. It had been demolished and rebuilt many times, but he always retreated to the familiar stones.

He wondered on this, considered why he did not linger at his birthplace, surely that would have been a more fitting spot to spend eternity? He was certain this was not the scene of his worst crime. But there seemed little rhyme nor reason to his dwelling in the ether, so he accepted now and drifted within the wide confines of his punishment.

He sighed and watched the sunrise.

He knew others dwelt similarly, he saw them on occasions, sometimes desolate, sometimes raging against God. But mostly they sat forlorn, attempting no understanding of their condition, merely staring enviously at the living.

He found now he felt some small compassion for them, they did not recognise their own part in their fate, mourning only the loss of corporeal pleasures.

One of such he recognised, a figure that hunched and skulked, muttering in dark corners. This was an old adversary, one whose sins far outweighed his own. Time was when he had been this man's loyal servant, believing his philosophies. But all had changed several lifetimes ago. This shade seethed and railed, it found no measured enlightenment, no calming of the spirit through gradual self knowledge, just whimpering whining rage against the unfathomable workings of the universe.

He closed his eyes and remembered what allegiance to this man had cost him. It caused him to shudder. He pulled himself from the edge of the dark pit he so often occupied.

Rain had begun to fall making the dingy street slick.

Those whose occupations kept them through the night now hurried to their homes. They who nursed the sick, men who cleaned the city streets, whores, thieves, all scurried with equal speed to their cosy burrows, to eat, sleep, share the embraces of a lover.

The last thought cut him, again he remembered his 'little brown bird' his wife. Her smile, nervous sometimes, others joyous. Such warmth she gave him.

A harsh female voice broke on him.

_"I'm goin' 'ome_." She was irked. _"Go 'ave a wank."_

_"Fuckin 'ell, don't ya wanna earn a twen'ny?"_ The drunk's words, slurred.

_"Twen'ny! In the f 'in' rain? Piss off!"_

In the shadow a dark shape lurked. It chuckled, a glint at its twisted mouth amplified by the bright rising sun.

The woman reeled as the back of the drunken man's broad hand smacked across her jaw. _"Bastard, ya f 'in' bastard!" _She hissed clutching her face.

The drunk staggered slightly, as if surprised himself at the blow._ "Teach ya a lesson's all." _He spat viciously onto the pavement.

The exchange was short. Pushing passed the bemused lout; the woman walked away, head held painfully up.

Swaying, her attacker shouted after her, _"Whore…Leper!"_ A quirk at the alcohol slack lips showed puzzlement at his own words. The man stumbled back against a wall, shook himself and lurched back down the greasy street.

The Watcher caught the movement of the dark shape in the alley, the reflected gleam at its mouth.

Eyes met, shared knowledge flickered.

The shape faded.

He was alone again.


	3. Chapter 3

Ghost Story 3.

Whatever the altercation in the road had been, the woman walked away and the  
>drunk staggered off in the other direction. Only shadows remained.<p>

High above in a tower block overlooking the greasy streets a woman let the  
>curtain fall back into place and turned away from the window.<br>Eight night shifts in A&E had left her raw; she could sleep now till one, do her  
>housework and collect Sofia from nursery at three. After that three glorious<br>days off, just the two of them. Then the cycle began once more, Sofia at her  
>mother's, her at work, studying, sleep, and a few days of being a mother again.<br>She pulled off her clothes, dragged on an old tee shirt, crawled into bed, curled herself

for sleep, and was gone.

In the street below the shadows retreated. The daylight did not vanquish them,  
>merely limited their mobility. The watcher sat high on the broken stones above<br>the city and observed these people who thought themselves so free. Free, they  
>believed, to censure those in whom power resided, free to go where they chose,<br>to live as they wanted.  
>But this was no more free than his own time; all were constrained by social<br>mores. Even those like his former lord needed the good graces of the king,  
>sometimes even the Church, to perpetuate their schemes and plots.<br>Gold did not free one either; wealth brought its own obligations. To have a  
>constant supply meant finding ways of acquiring more. Wealth was itself a<br>crop; seeds must be sown, cultivated and then harvested.  
>No freedom there, just more compulsion to more gain.<br>He sighed and leant back, the sun was high now, glinting off the glass and metal  
>buildings below, it warmed their coldness but not his skin. Closing his eyes he<br>tried to remember the feel of the sun on his face.

He frowned, it would not come. Such a simple thing, but not within his piteous grasp.

Regret washed over him, he tried again, this time for the smell of fresh baked bread.

A hint of something was there, but...

Then he had feeling of sinking into a hot bath after a day in the saddle...A bath prepared

by his little brown bird, and after, the pleasure taken and given in their bed. He almost

cried out as the wave of feelings hit him...  
>No, he shook off the thoughts, they cost him too dear, they brought back a<br>loneliness barely kept at bay.  
>But there was another pleasure newly discovered, the sound and sight of children<br>at play. Their laughter and innocent energy was infectious. Watching mothers with their  
>children, scolding, hugging, talking nonsense, all filled him with a peace.<br>Try as he might he could not remember if the distant warm softness in his memory  
>was his mother or his wife.<br>Women drew him, not as they had, though he could still admire one of goodly  
>proportions. No, it was their strength he now acknowledged. For centuries he had<br>seen them toil in the field and at the hearth, seen them become work worn, bowed  
>down with the care of others, seen bodies coarsen, beauty fade. But still, when shown<br>a newborn or given a flowered posy, they became fresh girls once more, gentle,  
>open and tender. Whatever their faults and failings, womankind was a wonder to<br>him.  
>The thoughts had drawn him to a school, women in small knots gathered to collect<br>their offspring. He wandered among them, half listening to the simple, gossipy  
>domestic chatter.<br>Then came the slow trickle of very young voices, eager with urgent news of  
>inconsequential doings, and full of wonderful enchanting light.<br>In this warm haven of joy, the glinting shadow caught him unawares, but he knew it. Slipping through the small groups, where it touched, smiles turned to frowns, voices turned waspish.  
>The watcher found himself beside a small woman who crouched and held out her<br>arms. A girl child ran into them, trustingly launching herself into her mother's  
>embrace. The child laughed and clutched at the love there. Her huge wide set<br>dark eyes blinked slowly at him; the tiny perfect mouth smiled shyly and said "Hello big  
>man."<br>He flinched.  
>"What Soso?" The mother shifted the child's weight and kissed the smooth<br>cheek.  
>Soso gave him a slight, flat handed wave and looked away.<br>Children often saw them, but they usually took little notice and lost interest.  
>The mother looked about her cautiously, eyes as large and dark as the child's,<br>swept over him.  
>They both shivered at the contact.<br>"Lepers, my boy, lepers all." A smooth voice hissed into his head, and it was  
>his turn to look about with unease.<br>A sharp chuckle cracked the air. The mother clasped the child tighter and,  
>without a backward glance, hurried away.<br>The watcher slumped; a light had gone, chased off by a familiar old evil.


	4. Chapter 4

Ghost Story 4.

The child's reaction to him had taken him by surprise. But the frisson he felt as the mother looked his way, shocked him. She had not actually seen him, of that he was sure, but she had sensed something, become aware of _something._  
>Of course he had been seen before, there were adults who saw plain all that was about them, but it was rare and usually they hid that awareness.<br>Those who paraded a greater knowledge of such things were usually deluded or frauds. Once he had attended a performance of such an individual, a woman who claimed contact with the dead.

_Such foolishness_.

He had watched her with care, she was good at what she did, gleaning snippets of information from the crowd, telling them what they wanted to hear. He had spoken to her, asking why she traded on sadness, teased the grieving with nonsense. But she had not heard him.

There had been a priest once that saw and heard. It had been long since. The watcher had sat in the confessional, asked for forgiveness for his crimes, but the priest was horrified and had denied him grace.  
>Later that same priest became a chaplain and went to join the 'war to end all wars'. He returned a broken man. The watcher resisted the temptation to gloat at the others man's expense.<br>Some men's spirits are coarsened by war, some refined, others destroyed by it, but he never knew a man it healed.

"Letty, your mother and I have been talking..."  
>She closed her eyes, her heart sank. This was not going to be good.<br>"Don't you think it would be better if you moved back home with us?" Her father paused, not for an answer, but to gather breath for the 'your place is here with your family' speech.  
>But she wouldn't let him. "Dad, you know what will happen; it'll be exactly the same. Sofia and I have a home. OK, the arrangements aren't perfect, but only one more year, I qualify, find a nice quiet practice and it will all be fine." She had no intention of telling him the practice she had in mind was in the Outer Hebrides.<br>"Robert is anxious to help you know, he said only the other day..."  
>"You've been talking to him about us! Dad, there's a restraining order; the man took out <em>a restraining order against me when I told him I was pregnant<em>. What sort of help do you think I want from _him_?" She began snatching up her things. "_How could you Dad_? The man's a worse control freak than mum."  
>"Well he <em>is<em> Sofia's father; if he wanted to he could..."  
>"<em>Nothing,<em> he could do _nothing_. No court in the country would grant him anything; he denied any relationship for God's sake." Shoving the last of her possessions into her bag, she left her parental home, glad that Soso was already at nursery and didn't have to witness any of the scene.

Hospitals were not among his usual places, being too full of wearisome shadows, but he had been drawn there by an old woman. She had passed him in the street, turned, reached out and called to him, then her frail body crumpled to the ground. He stayed while others sought to help her. For reasons not fully understood he felt responsible for her state. He continued at her side in the large, bright, overheated room as she was lifted into bed in a small curtained off area.

To be acknowledged again so quickly perplexed him, years could go by without such connections.

Staff came and went, asked questions that the old woman answered weakly. A device was attached to her thin and thickly-veined hand.  
>She lay quiet, apparently sleeping; a nurse came with another list to be ticked. These peoples' partiality for lists amazed him. Oh, he saw the sense in recording what you possessed to husband recourses, but the list is not the deed, not the fact, it is merely...<em> a list.<em>  
>But for those of this age <em>the list<em> was paramount.  
>This particular inventory was of the physicians prescribed medicines that the old woman took for the relief of her ailments.<br>It was a long list.  
>"OK, Alice how long have you been taking Warfrin?"<br>Her answer was indistinct.  
>"Alice darlin'," the woman's voice took on what was obviously meant to be a coaxing kindly tone, but only succeeded in sounding patronizing. <em>"How-long-have-you-been..."<em>  
>"I'm old, not a fool!" She bit out hoarsely. "About two years..."<br>The watcher smiled, he liked Alice.  
>The inquisition went on, Alice's answers grew fainter. The nurse left, promising a cup of tea, as if it's very elements would cure Alice's ills.<br>"Why am I not allowed to finish with this life?"  
>He turned, Alice had spoken to him. "I do not know...do you wish its end?" It was so long since he had used his voice...it sounded strange to him.<br>"Oh..._yes_." The sigh was heartfelt. "Everyone is gone now, and there is so much _pain_." She did not cry, and he was glad of it, tears were ever his undoing.  
>He wondered why she was made to stay. Misguided convictions that life was all, fed the belief that if her fading organs could continue to function, all would be well. But her spirit wished for rest, for the succour of the light...as did his.<br>The pale eyes opened again and fixed his. "'Tis nearly at an end now." She lifted her head and spoke sternly. "For good or ill, 'tis nearly over." She fell back, the effort had drained her. Breathing came in short pain-filled gasps, then a hollow rasping sound.  
>He watched the light blaze in her, then fade.<br>She was gone.  
>"OK, death pronounced at...11.12...Bugger...anyone got a pen that <em>actually works?"<em>


	5. Chapter 5

All hail to the beta ladies!

A Ghost Story 5

Sitting before the computer screen the watcher tried to concentrate on making the contrivance come to life. He knew there were shadows who could do such things, move objects; make the electrical toys of the living operate with no power and so on. He had tried before, but with no success. As far as he was aware he had no such capability. He knew his old lord had the means to touch minds with dark thoughts. His former paymaster had not changed; the man's amusement was always best served by the suffering of others.  
>Once more he looked deep at the darkened screen. He had thought the cast of it black, but now he saw a fathomless green expanse.<br>Three high-pitched chimes announced the Hospital's home page on the monitor.  
>He sat back, alarmed. Then looked for someone to notice his triumph. But the busy staff just went about their various occupations, ignoring his achievement.<br>Sulkily he moved off, away to see if he could find something of more interest.

Letty emptied the two backpacks, piling medical texts on nursery picture books, topping the stack with their empty lunch boxes. It seemed to her to be the sum of her life, the constant balance of work, study and parenthood.  
>"Soso, where are your shoes?" She looked at the tiny, regulation black school shoes; it still troubled her that the nursery insisted on a formal uniform and homework for a four year old!<br>Sofia wandered into the small kitchen, she grinned and pointed gleefully. "There they are!" As if it was part of the 'find the shoe game'.  
>"And where <em>should<em> they be?" Letty tried to look stern.  
>"They should beeee...<em>on my feet!<em>" The small form jumped up happily.  
>"No, not indoors. They should be...in the...?"<br>Sofia frowned, it cleared, "_Cupboard!"_ More delight.  
>"Then put them away baby." She had no idea how this had happened to her. It was as if she had given up freedom and peace of mind, and in the wink of an eye found the greatest joy her heart could know.<br>With a precision Letty had only ever seen in an operating theatre, Soso picked up one shoe delicately, between forefinger and thumb and carried it from the room. Seconds later she returned for the other shoe. It was treated with the same meticulousness.  
>"OK, snack, then homework, then park."<br>This announcement was greeted with tinkling giggles and the clapping of small hands. "I like the park; can we sit on the roundabout?" Sofia pulled herself onto the kitchen chair and sat, expectantly.

The scaffolder's moved like dancers across the narrow planks, swinging elegantly from level to level as they erected the metal skeleton around the old warehouse. The watcher was comfortable in such places. He found the surroundings and tone much like that of castle life. The purposeful went at their tasks brisk and efficient; the slackers had their bellies to guide them, constant in their attempts to avoid work. But all, when the need came, knew their trades and practiced them with effectiveness.  
>He had come to admire the skills of the masons, the carpenters and the ironmasters. In his life he had used those skills, but not acknowledged the artistry or science of them. He had thought such men no more than peasants, valued them to a point, but if lost another would do just as well.<br>He winced at the memory of ordering a carpenters hand hacked off for some infraction of his old lord's ruthless decrees.  
>"Yea, I wouldn't mind a bit 'o that!" One of the shirkers called out, leering.<br>The watcher followed the man's look, across the street a young woman and a child walked hand in hand. The child chattering, the mother smiling, answering intermittently.  
>"Nice bit o'...<em>Fuck it!<em>" The hot tea from the mug he held cascaded over his groin. "Shit, how...that's _f'in' 'ot!"_  
>The watcher moved away, a contemptuous sneer at his lips, not even noticing he caused the scald.<p>

The park was run down, broken glass, condoms and other debris littered one corner as if swept there in a half hearted effort to clear it. Once it had been a showpiece, all bright colours and safety mats. Now rust and civic indifference claimed the children's space.  
>Never-the-less at this time of the day, when the sun shone, it was a place of excitement and adventure.<br>Children's laughter, squeals and animated babble, all warmed the very air. He stood, arms folded across his chest and drank in that warmth.  
>Sofia smiled at him, he smiled back.<br>"Big man mummy, big man's here." She tugged at her mother's tee shirt. Letty looked up, a horrible thought crossed her mind. What if Rob decided to take things further...decide to insert himself into their life? What if he were following them?  
>A flicker of fear caught her, but she could see no one untoward.<br>And then..._there it was_, the shiver, not fear this time, not even apprehension, more an expectation of something recognised, but not seen.  
>He felt it too, the acknowledgement. Looking about him to confirm no other cause, he pushed himself forward till he stood over the mother and child.<br>A slither of scent, or perhaps not scent...mayhap a memory of something...  
>"<em>Arlette...Hiya!<em>" One of the mothers called to her, waved. Letty turned...  
>Seriously confused, she raised her hand to wave back, but still she felt...<em>what?<em>  
>Safe, she felt safe. A warm certainty enveloped her. Looking up it was as if the sun shone on just her and her child.<br>_Arlette. _  
>The watcher looked into the wide dark gold eyes and knew.<br>His little brown bird had found him.


	6. Chapter 6

A Ghost Story 6

Euphoric in his fresh conviction, his only desire was to pull her into his arms. The heart he had believed a husk for so long, thundered.

Letty heard from somewhere the words 'My love', a plaintive soft sigh of joy and sadness.

The world about her grew distant, she let Sofia's small hand slip from hers as she reached up to touch...

_Nothing, nothing was there._

She jerked back, frightened now.

Where a moment ago had been a place of wonder, the assurance of love...was now just empty space.

"Arlette, is Sofia coming to Troy's birthday party, it's at Play World?" The other mother looked concerned. "You OK? You look like you seen a ghost!"

He ran...

Or he thought he did. And all the time the whisper in his ear..."_You fool, they are lepers..."_

Atop the highest point of the city, he halted, breathless. But how could he be breathless, he who did not breath?

"Think you found your lost love? What do you think she'll say when you go..._BOO! Want some ethereal cock?"_

"_LEAVE-ME-BE!"_ The lungs he believed functionless were torn by his roar, shoulders heaving as he wept.

"_GOD...HELP ME..." _ The cry should have rent the heavens. He fell to his knees, whispering through tears "_Free me...Mother of Heaven...Free me."_

But his tormenter was still at his side, the sneering mock concern always the same. "Oh, pretty boy, is she _yearning_ for you? _You think_? A clue_, nooo!"_

"Be gone... _plague me no more." _ He flailed hopelessly about him, as if to strike his former master.

"Did you learn so little from me? Was my instruction completely wasted?" The shadow surrounded him, slid about his crouched limbs. "All these centuries gone, all human stupidity exposed. They are but playthings."

The scornful whining grievances pained the Watchers ears.

"At best...collected, observed for their worth as mere... _novelties_."

The low sound of chuckling disgust from that twisted mind made him shiver, gag. He convulsed, rolled forward.

And heard no more.

The bathroom was a wreck of damp towels, water sodden toys and puddles, all topped off with the scent of clean child. Letty sat on the closed toilet and looked about her.

Soso was in her own bed for a change. Usually, when Letty was on day shift and they had an _almost _normal routine; Soso would only sleep in her mother's bed. But tonight, once tucked in with her much-loved Kanga and Bear, clutching her favourite car, she was asleep as her head hit the pillow.

Leaving her mum to dissect her own recent mood swings, the bizarre sensitivity she felt.

All she could think of was some sort of hormone imbalance, perhaps an early menopause?

Stress?

No, stress she knew.

Picking up the damp debris and mopping up splashed bath water, she made herself think about diseases of the bowel and their attendant symptoms, much easier to deal with.

She was sleeping; lying stretched out on the battered sofa, a book resting open across her thigh.

The Watcher sat cross-legged, fascinated by the curve of her cheek, the fall of tousled curls.

This was not a thing he did.

When first abandoned to this existence he would stumble carelessly into the homes of the living, searching for...he knew not what. But in his anger and sorrow he had no mind to the wrong he did. He would rail and thunder at the occupants till he grew heartsick of it.

But that was long ago.

Now he observed only in places of work, entertainment, the streets. He no longer intruded into homes...till he had seen her.

At this moment he could smell the very air. If he reached out he believed he would feel the rhythm of the blood in her veins.

This was different.

She twisted, grimaced, a small cry, so muted he was unsure if it was a cry, escaped her lips.

Her dreams, what were they?

Did she dream of him?

No, that was a foolish conceit. She knew nothing of him. That this was _his_ Arlette, his little bird, was the notion of a lovesick simpleton.

The evil shade was right, he was a fool.

A low moaning hum of pleasure, a small artless smile and her body tensed...

The book fell to the floor and she sat up, startled awake, looking about her bemused. But the confusion of waking from her dream was soon gone.

He moved back, fearing lest he might accidentally brush her skin.

Aye, a fool he truly was. He was a ghost, naught but a quirk in the ether, he could not _touch_.

Rolling her shoulders, stretching her back, Letty moved to her bedroom, pulling off her jumper as she went.

He froze.

Too late he realised she was taking off all her clothes. Once more he was just a man looking at the fulsome body of a woman.

She pulled the old baggy tee shirt over her head and wriggled into protective warmth of the bed.

It was too much...

He left then, his mind a whir with questions, emotions he had forgotten. There was no pattern he recognised here. For over eight hundred years he had watched, studied, considered. Gone from cynical, misguided fool to saddened, but resigned philosopher.

He had come to believed this was Hell.

But he had been shriven at death, perhaps he had been in a state of grace, and this time spent watching was, in fact, his term in Purgatory?

But did men in Purgatory feel lust?

He thought not.


	7. Chapter 7

A Ghost Story 7

Time, an almost forgotten concept for him, hauled and pummelled his mind, pushed him to seek out places she would not be.

He lingered in workshops, inspecting the greasy engines that powered the noxious smelling vehicles so beloved of men.

He watched an elderly gardener trim and weed, lavish loving care his plants. Then listened to the same man bark and bellow at his spouse. True she barked and bellowed back, but still no picture of contentment there.

He stayed a while in a glass blowers workshop and remembered straying in to such a place as a child, loitering till the kindly workmen allowed him to try to blow life into the glass as they did. But his child's lungs were not big enough, and he failed.

He saw now how little the art had changed.

It soothed him to observe such things, but when his mind lost its discipline, he moved on.

Wandering into the law courts he chanced upon a churlish lout who was pushing a young, slight girl, holding her arm in a vicelike grip.

"You say, wot _I _say," the youth hissed at the lass.

"_But I was at me mum's, the neighbours saw me,"_ she whined.

"Me brief says we stick-to-the-story,_ understand_."

She stood back sullenly, shook off his hold and sucked at the thick gold chain that hung about her neck.

"Lonnie, good lad, you're on time. They'll like that." The fresh, open face, with its clear blue eyes and fashionably sculpted beard, grinned at the pimply felon. "Oh, and this must be the lovely Chantal?" The approaching barrister knew well who she was.

The 'lovely Chantal' blushed as the suave, streetwise lawyer smiled his most winning smile...all just for her. She was lost, for him she would tell any story he wanted in a shit load of courtrooms.

The watcher closed his eyes and swore an oath so awful, that if a prince of darkness had existed it surely would have called him up.

In his stead a slinking shadow circled the little group, chortling in delight. "Oh, what justice is this? Is he still fighting the battles of the poor and down trodden?" The shade sniffed. "Not that _she_ looks downtrodden enough." It leered and passed over the girl causing her to shiver and grow pale.

"Lonnie I'm cold." She bit on her chain, and looked sulky.

Stubby fingers stoked the air a nanometre from her skin, she squirmed and whined. _"Can we go yet?"_

"Shut-the-f'in-'ell-up" Lonnie didn't even look at her. "So, I just get the community service stuff then?"

Robert Locke smiled confidently. "Nope, no way they can make the charges stick now. Once the Police Complaints Authority lost its case, it made the charges against you unsafe. The delightful Chantal here gives you an alibi, they won't bother to check. It's all too embarrassing for the CPS. And you walk, my son. Simple as!"

The watcher could not believe the face he saw...his brother by twisted circumstance, his nemesis by fortune, stood before him in flesh, blood and arrogance, it was almost more than he could tolerate.

"Well, the boy looks well on it, whatever _'it'_ is..." the dark spirit chortled.

A jangling tune sounded, the bright eyed barrister pulled his phone from his pocket and held up his hand to the impatient Lonnie. "Justa mo, gotta take this." Turning away from his client, he tightened his professional smile. "Hi, George, good to hear from you. Any news for me?" The smile vanished, but the voice was still all charm and care. "Well, it's understandable really. But you know I was under _considerable_ strain at the time. It was all really just a huge misunderstanding. Lots of crossed wires. I never intended for..."

A surge of activity, a flurry of black court robes, and the call was being cut short. "I'll talk to her, no point hedging around this. What's her new number?"

Urgent chattering conversation began to fill the hallways. Lonnie looked unimpressed and bored.

"OK, I'll keep you posted. Don't you worry George, she's a bright girl, she'll see sense, after all there's so much more I can offer Letty and the child now."

The watcher left, the sniggering shadows words echoing in his head_, what justice indeed. _

Thundering through busy streets, along empty alley ways. Looking neither left nor right. His only purpose, to put distance between himself and the image of the man who had been his enemy and rival, then his brother in arms. At his death he had believed the man to be redemption itself. But that proved false, a misplaced fancy of his death.

How could he be condemned to watch again as his love was taken from him? This time not by sickness but by his brothers image, a man who had bested him before.

This could not be...

Letty slumped against the door frame as she fumbled with her keys. She desperately needed sleep. She was more tired than she thought possible.

Inside the flat was cold and quiet. This was Sofia's week with her grandparents, leaving Letty to complete her rota of night shifts.

She hated the feel of the empty rooms. It was as tidy as she had left it. Soso's toys were neatly in her room, no stray sock or forgotten book. All was orderly, almost anonymous.

Glancing in the kitchen the thought of making a hot drink crossed her mind, but as swiftly as it came, it went.

Instead she pulled off her clothes and crawled into bed.

Standing below he saw the light high above him flick off.

Was this his true punishment, to follow his reborn love, observe as her life carries her further from him, that he should struggle more without hope?

Watch his failures again and again?

'_For good or ill, 'tis nearly over.'_

The old woman's words sounded in his head. He had thought she'd meant her own life was nearly over, but something in her voice had left the meaning ambiguous. Had it been his lot she had spoken of? Had that been the purpose of the encounter, to warn him in some way? Could that be the reason he felt things he thought lost to him, saw the faces of his forfeit little bird and his brother?

Was _his_ trial coming to an end, this the presage of _his_ final judgement?

Would oblivion be his rest, or the pit of eternal damnation?

_No!_

He would not accept this. One brief glancing blow of happiness, then all was forbidden to him? He would not let this be so.

A thing, not rage, not anger, but a keener passion took him.

Sleep came easy; Letty had sunk into a deep dreamless limbo. Profound, dark and restful. Muscles relaxing, regaining energy.

A soft sigh escaped her, enclosing warmth soothed her tired limbs, causing her to stretch and spread her arms loosening the sheet that covered her.

A tiny trickling thirst radiated from a small point low in her. She moved again, smoothly languid, rolling onto her belly. Her sleep no longer dreamless.

A gentle pressure on her hip made her groan; the pressure became a stoking massage of her full flesh. She squirmed at the arousing curl in her centre. Turning onto her back, the loving warmth moving with her, the feeling of another's breath at her throat caused more teasing heat to lap at her core.

She wanted...even in her dreams she knew it had been too long, and this was so real to her.

She felt buffeted by soft caresses, but untouched, no hands in evidence. Kissed, but no mouth made contact with her skin. Shifting in that wanting but empty embrace, she instinctively moved her hand down, but halted as she felt a soft exhalation on her thigh.

Her breath caught in her throat, she whimpered at the firm, slick, hot feel of a tongue against her desperate, secret flesh.

Letty bit hard on her lip, no longer certain this was a dream. Writhing, arching back, her leg parted in natural invitation to her imagined lover. Her sleep-muzzed mind reeled with long missed sensations, breath came quicker, limbs tensed, nerve ending exquisitely raw, and still the phantom lover went on with able fingers, flickering tongue and soft lips.

And there it was, all nerves crashing simultaneously, but each ringing with the tortuously divine pain of orgasm.

Letty slumped, the breath gone from her, limbs weak. Hesitantly opening her eyes...he was there, a dark shadow was above her...

No, he was gone, never truly there.

Nothing, she was alone.

Just a dream. The fantasy of a lonely, tired woman.

She cried softly till sleep took her.

Once again he chose the highest point of the city. Looking down he knew all he wanted was to be a man again. To be the husband he should have been, the father he never was.

He had given her all he could, how he was unsure. He had rested at her side, needing only her closeness to soothe him, but his thoughts turned to the newly discovered smell of her skin, the temptation to kiss that skin.

Then it was made real, she could feel him, and he her. She had given herself to him and he was lost, gave her heaven with his tongue... felt her rise and plummet in her desire and joy.

"Humph...pleased are we?" That loathed voice pierced the watchers thoughts. "Tell me, did you spend?"

"Be gone, slimy fiend," the watcher growled. "Are you so still so feeble in your own feelings that you needs must taste those of others?"

"_Oh, ewww_, very delicate flower are you not." The scorn still seeped. "I remember when you were not so circumspect about your coupling..."

The watcher turned as if to strike.

"_You are still the sad, unfulfilled specimen you always were. You are dead. She will never see you, let alone love you, give you anything, and you deserve nothing." _

The spite that spewed forth sounded strangely hollow.

Something _had_ changed.


	8. Chapter 8

Thank you my beterful Jen, you're a diamond gezzer xxxx

A Ghost Story 8

The helplessness he felt came not from disbelief in gods and devils; he had long since lost his faith in those imposters. More it was the conviction that his fortune was of his own making. Too much of his life had been wasted following the twisted, malformed philosophies of his former master.  
>Now he paid the high price demanded by the fates for such foolishness.<br>Goodness existed in the world, he had seen it.  
>Seen the selfless sacrifice of one stranger for another, seen fathers put themselves in dangers way to protect their families, mothers starve so that children might eat.<br>He had also seen moments of simple happiness between lovers, not lustful, but the exchange of smiles, an understanding shared, a flower thoughtfully given.  
><em>Oh, and children...<em>  
>Their happiness was almost painful to him. How many children had he left fatherless? How many knew even worse fates due to his actions?<br>_"For good or ill, 'tis nearly over."_ The old woman's words rang in his mind.  
>Head in hands, he sat and wept.<p>

The door bell was buzzing incessantly.  
>Slowly Letty opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling.<br>She could just ignore it? Everyone that mattered knew she was on nights. So that just left strangers, and strangers didn't count.  
>She closed her eyes again.<br>The buzzing continued.  
>Stumbling from her bed, the dreams of the previous night still clouding her mind, she crawled into joggers and tee shirt and stomped out of her bedroom.<br>"OK, OK, I'm coming."  
>Wrenching open the door she found herself looking up into the sweet boy face of Rob Locke. The last man on Earth she wanted to see.<br>"Hiya baby girl." He leant against the doorframe and grinned down, his special _'I'm adorable when I'm contrite'_ grin.  
>Not a look she was about to fall for, they had history, she knew him.<br>"Bastard!" Letty tried to slam the door, but he had taken the precaution of moving himself into the doorway.  
>"Come on Let, you know you don't really want me to go." The fact that his eyes hadn't left her face didn't mean he hadn't taken in her lack of clothes.<br>"I don't want you here Rob. I'm probably breaking some injunction or other just talking to you." She pushed at the door again, but he stood firm, the smile becoming an irritating smirk.  
>"Babe that's in the past, it was stupid. Bella got all hot under the collar and went overboard with the legal stuff. Not for one moment did I think it was going to go as far as it did." He knew so much about plausible innocence. It was how his courtroom charm usually worked, how he expected it to work.<br>"Rob you told the world I was a nut job, that I imagined our relationship. Imagined you were the father of my child. You lied and lied. I was only half way through my preclinical; I almost lost my place thanks to you._ I had to fight to convince my tutors I wasn't a bloody stalker._ Do I need to go on?"  
>"And I'm sorry; I know you could have gone for testing..."<br>How he'd managed it she wasn't sure, but Letty heard the door snap shut as Rob leant back on it.  
>"But you didn't, you cared enough not to do that. It would have blown me out of the water." He had pitched his voice lower, dipped his head to hers. Lessened the space between them.<br>Letty had forgotten his continual use of metaphor, maybe it was allegory; she couldn't remember which. Whatever, it _really _annoyed her now. "Rob, I just surrendered, got on with my life. You married Bella, and frankly I don't care anymore. Sofia is four years old. One year and I qualify. We don't need you or your apologies."  
>He took on the stance of the supplicant, begging for her understanding. "I know. You have every right to throw me out. I made huge mistakes..." His arms dropped to his sides; a gesture of defeat. "I can't change that, but letting you go was the biggest..."<br>All the gestures, all the words, they were just part of his performance. She knew his dramatic range.  
>"<em>Oh<em>, is Bella's daddy not coming across with a partnership? Silk no longer on the horizon?" Bitterness made her voice tight.  
>Once she had loved this man.<br>"_Divorce_ is on the horizon. Well, more on the foreground actually. I thought I could do all that sucking up stuff..." The entreating smile slipped as a darkness coloured his pretty blue eyes. "But...you know me babe, I do like a bit of a fight."  
>Rob had always seen himself as a crusader for the little man, but he'd wanted the money he thought would give him the freedom to crusade. Marriage to the Hon. Isabelle Huntingdon de Vere, daughter of Sir Hubert Huntingdon de Vere QC, MP and member of the Privy Council, seemed like the perfect route.<br>Obviously it wasn't quite as perfect as he thought.  
><em>"OK, OK, enough..."<em> Letty could feel her aggression slipping away. He was just pathetic, still playing to the same old script.  
>"Are you gonna offer me a coffee?" He had moved forward again, gently stoking a stray curl behind her ear, just letting his finger brush her lobe, he reached for her.<br>"No, I'm offering you nothing Rob. What do you want._..really_?"  
>His sigh was heavy, regretful, contrived.<em> "Access." <em>  
>Stunned, she stared at him. No words formed, but fear snaked a tight thread though her brain.<br>He shrugged._ "I want to access to my daughter._"

There was something very comforting about this part of the hospital. The soft hum of the life maintaining machines, the quiet, informal purpose of the nurses.  
>From time to time a death deprived soul would struggle to escape the well intentioned chains of this artificial life, only to be hauled back by efficient alarms and dedicated staff, convinced that they fought a battle with death it was possible to win.<br>Sometimes a soul blazed and attained the freedom of the light.  
>He longed to follow them, but this was not his time...not yet.<br>"Sod it! The sarge is on the blink..." Lights flashed and alarms beeped subtly at the nurse's station. Staff moved with purposeful speed about their charge, a man, tethered by the humming machinery. His fighting essence kept shackled to the Earth.  
>The watcher stood by and wondered about this man, listened to the idle banter between the technical jargon.<br>"Come on sarge, you know you want to keep our date at Claridges."  
>"OK, tone down the ventilator."<br>"I've got the perfect shoes and everything. That's it fella just...Ok, OK, we're level now."  
>"BP's steadying."<br>"See, I knew you fancied me."  
>"Yea, it was the prospect of you in just your new shoes!"<br>Staff laugh, sigh and step back, the job done, the chains re-attached.  
>But the watcher saw the telltale glaring brightness as the spirit gained free. He knew they now held vigil over an empty shell.<br>"Right, can someone give Letty a buzz; she'll want the stats for her profile."  
>Suddenly he was alert, looked closer at the husk on the bed.<br>This corpse had more connection with the living image of his lost love than he.  
>Studying the body, he saw the outward show of artificial life,<em> and envied it.<em>  
>She might come, talk of trivialities as the nurses had done, perhaps smile at him, stroke his cheek...<br>He left then, overwhelmed by his longings.


	9. Chapter 9

A Ghost Story 9

"Dad, you gave Rob my address, you know how I feel, it's not..." Letty banged about her parents kitchen making coffee, messily.  
>"It's not what dear?<em> Fair?<em> Is it _fair_ that our beautiful grandchild is dragged up in a tower block, is it_ fair_ that she..."  
>"Oh, hello mum, I didn't realise you were back. I suppose<em> it<em> _was_ you then?" Letty interrupted her mother sharply.  
>"Don't be so dramatic; it's not as if you were hiding." The older woman sniffed as she moved behind her daughter, tidying away the instant coffee, wiping at the surfaces, getting out the 'better' bone china mugs. "Goodness, all this fuss over nothing."<br>"It isn't nothing! He wants access to the child he denied fathering. _That-is-not-nothing!" _  
>"He's willing to support you, he said so. The nonsense with that silly Bella person is over. He can accept his responsibilities now." Her mother was smugly complacent as she began the coffee making again, in a more satisfactory manner than her daughter.<br>"He has an _agenda_, I don't know what it is, but he has one. He doesn't give a shit about Soso."  
>"I do wish you wouldn't use that sort of language, or call Sofia that. It's so... <em>common<em>."  
>Letty rolled her eyes at her silent father, he smiled conspiratorially. While he shared his wife's opinion, he also knew when to go softly with his daughter.<br>"You're wrong if you think the courts will reject his claim you know. They'll love a repentant deadbeat dad. All he has to do is look apologetic and offer to pay; they'll fall at his feet." He sighed. "And God knows you could do with the help."  
>"No, absolutely not! He's not doing this for the love of his child, Dad," she sighed hopelessly. "I know him better, there's something else going on."<br>"You are such a mistrustful girl these days Arlette; it's all those odd people you mix with I suppose." Her mother poured the fresh coffee from the Cafetière in to the delicate china mugs with a self-righteous smile.

The enticement of that tormenting shell, the lure of the life it impossibly offered, bedevilled the watcher. He loitered in hospital corridors, teased himself with glimpses of the dead, but still somehow still _living_ soldier. He stood by, as hesitant as any lovesick boy, when Arlette visited.  
>He had no knowledge of any method or mastery of technique that might unite him with the complete, but untenanted body. He was at a loss, yet the answer to his prayers lay frustratingly before him. The inert form seemed there only to persecute him further.<p>

"Sarge's brain stem test this morning...it was negative Letty, thought you should know. He's a registered donor, and as a heart beater he's perfect transplant material. So, if you want to say goodbye or anything..."  
>"Oh...I sort of thought..." Letty drooped; she had been covering Sergeant Adam Bourne since his admission to the Neurocritical Care Unit a year previously. She'd followed his progress, or rather lack of it, for her patient case study. Once a week for the last year she had filed his stats, collected data on his responses and any deterioration of his condition.<br>There had been none; he had stayed stable, for one year.  
>When the paperwork was done she would sit with him, sometimes chatting about the little nothings of her life, taking Soso to nursery school, the outrageous condition of her flat's plumbing. She would read postcards the men of his unit sent him, laughing at the colourful jokes and puzzling over cryptic messages. Other times she just sat and watched him breathe.<br>His history seemed so sad, in the care system as a teenager, both parents dead, no family. At eighteen the Army saved him, and at thirty-five sacrificed him. No wife, no girlfriend, no one other than far off mates to care whether he lived or died.  
>And now...it was over, he was gone.<br>"Ok, I'm on my way."

The flurry of activity about the soldier's lifeless body alerted the watcher.  
>Voices hushed now, no light hearted banter, respectful, professional tones only.<br>One of the young nurses rubbed tears from her cheeks.  
>At the nurse's station he listened as they quietly discussed the removal of the very heart he coveted.<br>_NO,_ this could not happen. That his chance at life be snatch away so abruptly!  
>In desperation he clasped at the lifeless hand of Adam Bourne, but swiped only empty air. In anger he tried again, gritting his teeth when the outcome was repeated.<br>_"You fool; you think this pitiful exhibition will aid you? You are more feeble minded than even I thought you!" _  
>But the scorn that dripped from that hated mouth served only to spur the watcher on. Now he strove to grip both unresponsive hands, to feel the other man's flesh, to share that still beating heart, gasp air into those still inflating lungs.<br>Nothing.  
>Was existence all to be this emptiness?<br>With everything that had ever made him a man, he wanted_ life!_  
>Flesh touched flesh; fingers curled and gripped lifeless sinew. Howling through his gut, a roar of pain ripped free his soul. A pain so acute it froze him.<br>All sound came muffled.  
>He saw those about him, slow to still, like a statues, ceasing their practised actions.<br>The glinting, mocking grin of his tormentor was gradually replaced by spitting outrage...  
>The monitor continued to sound its monotonous beeping chorus, then acquired an unquestionable echo...<br>_"Shit,_ that can't be right; this bloody thing's acting up..._Oh, holy fuck! _Get the crash team NOW! We've got an independent heart beat here!"


	10. Chapter 10

Thank you Jan, you are a star!

A Ghost Story 10

There was little she could do.  
>Three hours ago Sergeant Adam Bourne had been attended by the crash team; he now had a heartbeat and brain function.<br>Some people were quietly using the word '_miracle_'.  
>Letty, after the initial shock, was more inclined to substitute 'miracle' with 'cock up'. Whatever it was, Sergeant Bourne was alive, not quite kicking yet, but it was only a matter of time.<br>Strangely she felt rather uncomfortable about all the time she had spent sitting at his bedside wittering on about nothing. Had he actually heard her? Present wisdom was that no one knew for certain. She considered staying away, of course she'd have the case study to complete, but she didn't actually have to speak to him, just request his retroactive approval.  
>In the lift up to the Neurocritical Care Unit, she closed her eyes, aware of a throbbing in her temples. It seemed to get more acute as the lift climbed. Rummaging through her bag she found the painkillers she knew were there. With a groan of thanks she popped two capsules and swigged from her bottle of water.<br>The thud in her head seemed working towards a crescendo as doors slid open...  
>"<em>Bloody 'ell girl you look awful!<em>" The low Welsh voice startled Letty and she almost fell onto Sue, the senior staff sister.  
>"Oh, it's just a headache; I took a couple of pills." Letty dismissed the throbbing. She rubbed her eyes and pulled herself together. "How's the Sarge, any change?"<br>"He's sleeping now; ticking over like clockwork. Course he did throw a bit of a wobbler earlier. Gained consciousness long enough to pull his catheter out, and that's_ gotta _hurt." She arched a brow at Letty, who mouthed '_Ouch_'. "He's only tubed for saline now. But it's certainly is a new one on me, 'nother hour and he'd have been on the table having his bloody _'art removed_!" Sue had worked the unit since it opened; had seen just about all there was to see, till now. "Poor sod just looked terrified, couldn't speak, but then there's a _lot _he'll be right outa practice with." She winked at Letty and grinned at her friends frown. "_What? _Don't tell me you don't fancy him, even two stone under weight, white as a sheet and in desperate need of a shave and a haircut _and he's still shaggable._"  
>"For God's sake, the poor bloke's hardly conscious!" Letty groaned and giggled self-consciously. The headache was still very much in evidence, but she needed to go on.<br>"He's alive mate, a week and he'll be out of 'ere. Bets are going down on how long it'll take Nora-no-knickers from HR to get him in the non-sterile's cupboard!"  
>At this Letty did laugh. "I'll go a fiver each way on that."<br>They walked together toward the nurses' station, Sue nudged her. "OK, are you gonna say hello or not?"

He lay still now, eyes closed, listening to the thunder of a heart, his heart. Conscious of the torrent of blood in veins and arteries, his veins, his arteries. Muscles burned to be used, sinews tingled, nerve endings prickled.  
>This was life.<br>When first he plunged into the empty body he had thought all was pain, every sensation a torture. He had not been prepared for the fire that laced through him shredding his thoughts to incoherence. Any comprehension of what was happening to him was swallowed up in the raging tumult of blind, lacerating pain.  
>His initial struggle had caused the body to writhe and flail against the tubes and wires that fed and monitored its functions.<br>But they had pricked him, injected him with an infusion that soothed his anguish, calmed his mind, till for the first time in almost a thousand years, he slept.  
>And what dreams assailed him.<br>Memories of Adam Bourne lingered, mixing with his own.  
>Loneliness, anger, joy. They shared the common bond of soldiery, of self doubt, disappointment of love forfeit to fortune. Pleasure at the sight of birds in darting flight, the sounds of the sea.<br>He found the man's imprint in every tissue. The very strands that held his blood's heritage, still rested within the not-so-empty shell.  
>'T was not solely his then?<p>

"It's my fault, my mistake." Rob was not accustomed to accepting responsibility for his own actions, but on this occasion he had little choice. "I was a fool. I thought...I don't know what I thought." He shifted uncomfortably in the chair. "Maybe I just panicked?" Looking across the lunch table at his grandmother his manner was serious, regretful. His usual cheeky smile stored away.  
>"Quite a mistake to make Robert. Not one easily forgiven. Career improvement or your child?" The older woman looked at her only grandchild with resignation. She was well aware of his ability to dissemble and obfuscate. His grandfather, her husband had been a veritable artist in that direction. It was what had made him such a successful businessman in his day.<br>She sighed. "And now what do you want? You do of course know that Sir Hubert will have you blackballed, his influence is quite extensive."  
>Rob smiled, for him it was unusual, it was real. "Not for long and he has no real clout in the circles I want to move in. Any way his temper is nothing beside Isabelle's, and she so wants out of this marriage." He shook his head, smiling as he pushed back from the table, tossing the still crisp white linen napkin onto the empty plate in front of him. "She wanted a clever monkey to dance attendance on her, but a clever monkey she could show off." The smile was a grin now. "And I don't <em>do <em>'dancing attendance'. Though I am quite partial to showing off..."  
>His grandmother laughed, she wished she hadn't. He was getting off scot-free. His behaviour had been reprehensible, but he was bringing her a grandchild and that was the most important thing.<br>Carefully placing her fork in the centre of the white china plate, beside the morsel of cook's excellent dark chocolate and ginger bark, which she would not eat, even though it tempted cruelly. "I'll have Arnold look at the trust's conditions, see what can be done. I'm sure we can arrange something for you,_ and_ your daughter."

Letty stood back, the unit staff coming and going about her. Clutching a sheaf of notes to her chest she leant against the door frame of the small private room. Lip bruised from nervous chewing, she watched as The Sarge slept.  
>Her headache was a low level thump now, but her eyes still had a tendency to lose focus. Breathing deep, she moved forward into the room, embarrassed. Would he remember the rambling fool of a woman who had sat by his bed once a week? Would he allow her to use his case study? He could refuse and then a year's work would be lost.<br>Looking down at him she couldn't help but smile, Staff Sue was right, even like this he was a good looking man. Unconsciously she brushed away a strand of hair from his forehead and whispered a soft, shy "Hello."  
>A sudden small frenzy of rapid eye movement made her move back abruptly, sending a metal kidney bowl clattering to the floor. Blue grey eyes opened and looked directly into hers, he frowned, a hand flew out and caught her wrist.<br>_"Arlette?"_ The voice, a deep, desperate croak.  
>"You OK Letty?" Sue poked her head round the door, just as her friend fainted.<p> 


	11. Chapter 11

A Ghost Story 11

"He called me Arlette..." Letty whispered her eyes closing. She hung on to the hot, strong coffee, as if it were an actual physical support.

"Newsflash cariad_, it's ya name_." Sue rolled her eyes. "Look girl you've been in and out of that ward practically every week for nearly a year. You know as well as I do that _officially _we don't know if a comatose patient can hear or not. But chances are they can."

"But no one here calls me that, only my mother calls me Arlette." Hunching over a table in the staff cafe, she stared into her cup in case the answer was hidden there.

He knew her; he'd heard everything she'd said. It was the only explanation. She must have mentioned her name, said..._something_.

But the look of desperate puzzlement in his storm sky eyes, like he needed...what? No, this was stupid; she had enough on her plate with Rob and his scheming demands. And then there was this bloody headache...it was then that it realised that there _was_ no longer a headache.

"Well, at least the brain pain's stopped." She pulled a face.

"Yea and _that_ you wanna get checked out too my friend. See your GP or I'll get one of the Freud Squad on your case," Sue threatened.

"_Christ no, not the psychos !"_ Letty chuckled. "I'll see my own quack thank you. I've not been to see him on my own account since Sophie was born."

"What, never?" Sue was amazed.

"I'm never ill, too much to do." She shrugged.

ppppppppp

She had come to him, touched his brow. Spoken low, just one word, but it was sweet, gently said.

He wanted to laugh with the joy of it, till he remembered her collapse. He had startled her, grabbed her, croaking like a loon. He had forgot how to touch, how to speak.

With alarm he wondered if he had the capacity to stand, walk as other men. What if the Sergeant's injuries went beyond his minds sleepfull state? What if this body could no longer perform the functions of a man in his prime years?

When he had first woken there had been a pipe inserted into his cock, he had learned, _after_ he had wrenched it free, (a wholly foolish act that causedhim great pain,) that it was there to draw off piss while the body slept. How his other functions were dealt with he was reluctant to even guess!

"_Water...I would drink...I beg_," he croaked.

Staff Sue was writing up his chart, she looked up and smiled, then grinned. "Sergeant Bourne, nice to meet you at last." She half filled a plastic cup from the cooler and brought it to him. "Do you think you can sit up a wee bit?"

Under normal circumstances, a patient in a Persistent Vegitive State, and those few in recovery, were turned regularly to prevent pressure sores, had visits the physios to move limbs in an effort to prevent atrophy of the muscles. But this was not a normal circumstance. MRI and CT scans had revealed remarkably healthy bone and soft tissue. His muscle tone, for a man prone and unconscious for almost a year, was significantly good. All in all Adam Bourne was doing very well.

The unit could be proud of it procedures, he was a success story.

"You, Sergeant, are a bloody miracle." Sue held the cup to his lips. "Play your cards right and you can have a bit of liquidised fish and chips for yer tea." She smiled at his puzzled look.

The water trickled at first, a cool, luxurious seep of sweet, simple water. A true gift of the gods to mankind. His mind reeled at the easy pleasure of it.

He gulped a mouthful... but the muscles of the throat rebelled, spasmed, forcing the water back up, choking him.

"_No, no boyo_, small sips. Tha's all you need right now." Sue wiped his mouth and eased him back as the coughing subsided. "OK, I think the fish and chips are off, but I want you on your feet ASAP. My friend Letty is literally falling over herself to get to know you."

Pressing the button to raise the head of the bed Sue found his large hand grip hers.

"Arlette?" the husked voice whispered. "She comes... will come...here?"

"Yea." Frowning Sue paused, to joke was one thing, but this fella looked serious. "Do you remember her coming to sit with you, is that it?"

He lay back with a sigh, released her hand and winced, rasping, "Fucking Christ, my prick's stinging to buggery."

She laughed. "That's what 'appens my love, when ya decide you can remove your own bloody catheter!"

ppppppppp

Letty sat trying to look casual, trying to look as if she hadn't made an effort with her clothes and hair. But she had, and it _was_ for Rob's benefit. She wanted him to see she and Sophie didn't need him, they were doing just fine. He was an irrelevance.

"You look...edible." Rob wasn't smiling as he pulled out the chair opposite her. He'd seen her the moment he came through the door of the very chic restaurant. It had been his choice of meeting place, just a little reminder of what he could bring to the table, so to speak.

Comfort, security, money.

Having her come to _his_ favourite restaurant, sit at the table and wait like the good girl she was, should have put him in control, but for some reason it didn't feel like it.

And she _did_ look edible.

But those big gold green eyes didn't look up at him the same way anymore. The trusting, excited girl had gone. The replacement looked at him coldly, expecting a fight, wanting one.

"Don't bother with the charm stuff Rob, we're well past that."

He sat, forcing a grin. "Oh, we are so not sweetheart...But you're right, that's not what we're here for is it?" He leant forward across the table, about to take her hand in his, but she sat back crossing her arms.

He knew the 'tells'. She was shutting him out. Ah, but he was prince charming of the courtroom, knew his way around a reluctant witness.

"Let, I only want to help, see our child a couple of times a month, that's all. Nothing draconian. I'm not looking for joint custody, just..."

"This is about money isn't it?" It was Letty's turn to lean forward, elbows on the table, her chin resting on folded hands. "I'm guessing Isabelle is going to sting you for all she can and...you need an outgoing that can't be touched?" she smiled with mock understanding. "Of course I'd have to play along, tell the court how we need all this money for Sophie's ballet lessons, the nanny, that sort of thing, and I assume the plan is to split the difference?"

"You really do have a low opinion of me...is me wanting to see my own child so hard to believe?"

The look she gave him spoke volumes.

"I'm older, things change; a man sees things differently..." Rob was losing, and he knew it.

"Oh, please, you'll be telling me your granny's dying next." Letty sighed in exasperation.

There was no way he was going to let her know about the inheritance held in trust, the one that his grandmother was going to give him access to, _if_ he gave her a grandchild to play with.

"You've turned into a very bitter woman." He paused; a snide smile curled his pretty mouth. "No man in your life then?"

Before she could stop herself, it snapped out "Actually there is, his names Adam and he's in the army." Oh, God, she thought with horror, what had she done?


	12. Chapter 12

A Ghost Story 12

Sergeant Bourne had been an exemplary soldier. Intelligent, resourceful, pragmatic, liked and respected by his fellows, trusted by his superiors. Been in a thousand fixes and survived all of them, till now.

_Now..._he was dead.

Well not properly dead, as in 'dead and buried', dead as in moving about, breathing, that sort of thing. Mostly he was OK, except for his prick which still smarted when he took a piss.

He'd rather embarrassingly complained about it to a nurse, the cute, motherly Welsh one with the nice bum.

No, the real problem was the other bloke in his head, the one he kept morphing into.

Cccccccc

The watcher closed his eyes and tried to listen to the soft night time sounds of the ward. The gentle buzz of the electric lights, doors swishing quietly shut, the click of the keys as the duty nurse worked on the computer.

This was his world now, familiar in so many ways, strange in so many more. His new awareness brought so many marvels.

Touch he now found a wondrous thing. The texture of the sheet, the smooth surface of the bed frame, the skin which was now his own, all felt so tantalizing.

Sometime the sensations overwhelmed him, brought him close to unmanning.

Oh, and the wonder of food!

Not that he was allowed to gorge himself. However the tangy sauces, succulent meats, breads as white and soft as snow made each meal a marvel.

The Welsh angel had brought him _chocolate. _'Twas a true wonder. It could be drunk or eaten in all manner of ways. He found it quite a magical stuff.

The food was enticing enough, but the women beguiled him. Old, young, fetching and ill favoured, all smelt sweet and clean.

He smiled to himself as he remembered the perfume Angie had worn...

No, that was not his memory, but he knew it. Just as the Sergeant knew his.

Sometimes the identities were separate, not quite meeting. Sometimes they seemed one, memories and thoughts slipping into gaps. Philosophies neatly bonding them into one man.

_Sometimes_.

Cccccccc

The look on Rob's face was a picture. She could see him trying to recalculate his neat little equation: Letty, lonely and desperate single mum. Rob, knight on slightly soiled white charger, to her rescue.

If she wasn't desperate he'd lost his advantage. Then his lawyer mind kicked in. "And what are your plans with this 'Soldier Boy'?

"None of your damn business." She couldn't look at him.

"Oh, I think it is. I take it he comes to your flat?" Smiling genially he said, "And you see that's my daughter's home, how do I know she's safe around him?" Rob said the words quietly, loaded them with the suggestion of possibilities no mother would want to contemplate.

Letty almost choked. "_You've got to be joking?"_

But his self-satisfied smile and raised eyebrow showed he wasn't.

Standing abruptly, she snatched up her bag. "This is insane. I refuse to let you do this." Without another word she stormed out of the restaurant, turning heads as she went.

The plan had changed, but once again he had the upper hand.

She practically ran to her car, tears stinging her eyes. How could he be doing this? Then there was the small fact that Adam Bourne was a recovering PVS patient and not anything near a lover, her's or anyone else's! Sooner or later she was going to have to lie more or...Or what?

Cccccccc

"_Well, well, don't we look... at our ease."_

Adam looked up from the small games console he'd been playing. But there was no one there. He shrugged and returned to his shoot 'em up game. In theory it was part of his rehabilitation; his OT was very keen on it as occupational therapy. It would help hand and eye co-ordination, manual dexterity and a host of associated brain functions. In practise, Adam was bored witless, and the game stopped him thinking about the past, the future...and of course the very interesting Dr Letty Walters.

A huffing sound diverted the sergeant's attention from his score. He tossed the console aside and sat up, swearing under his breath.

"_Hmmm, got your attention now? Fortuitous how the body seems to suit, oddly... appropriate, even the nose."_ It was said with a belittling snort.

The malevolent voice was familiar, but foreign at the same time, but then to Adam a lot of things were turning out like that lately.

"Oh, fuck off, you rat faced little runt. I've stepped on more interesting things crawling out of a Bagdad sewer."

The mocking spite in the disembodied voice grew. _"How does it feel, this new life? This new decaying corpse you occupy?" _The contemptuous tones slid about the small room, withering fruit in the bowl as it prowled_. "A clue...I do not care."_

"If you don't care piss off somewhere else, there are mediums out there wetting their knickers to meet someone like you!" Adam leaned back on the bed and closed his eyes. It was bad enough not entirely knowing who he was, without this little invisible arsehole winding him up. "'Cos you're sure as hell boring me."

"_Huh, I see all care is lavished upon you."_ A discarded crisp packet bounced in the air as if caught in a breeze. It fell to the floor and lay forgotten. _"You do not fool me, I know you, remember. Your spineless guilt, your..."_

"You, you piece shit, are stealing my very valuable leisure time." Adam's tone changed becoming deeper. "What I now have I will keep fiend, be gone. Foul the air of some other sinner."

"_So, you are here..."_ The shade jeered gleefully.

"And here I shall _stay_. Whatever power once bound me to you, 'tis gone, long since purged." The watcher breathed deep, felt the truth of the words sing through every sinew.

For he was 'the watcher' no more.

He was Adam Bourne.


	13. Chapter 13

Thank you Jen, you are a star x

A Ghost Story 13

"Letty, I thought I'd catch you." Rob nudged closed the door of his dark grey BMW convertible and advanced toward her.  
>"What do you want; I thought I'd made my feelings clear?" Visibly annoyed at his appearance in the hospital car park, Letty strode away from her little beat up red Metro; just wishing the dependable old car was at least a couple of years younger.<br>"By walking out on me? Nah, that was pique, a hissy fit, that's all." He easily matched her stride, easily reached the lifts before she did, and with equal ease stood in front of the call buttons. "I think we need to think more about Sophie and less about our petty squabbles."  
>"And you need a reality check. There was nothing <em>petty<em> about your behaviour. It was..."  
>He leant down, saying softly "I-think-we-should-get...reacquainted...maybe." He said the words catching her hand, lifting it to his mouth, as if to kiss her fingers. "<em>Piss off!<em>" She snatched her hand away. "You really believe that's it, a bit of smarm and I'll fall at your feet? _You're five years too late!_" Pushing past him, fury tingling in every bone, she took the stairs.

_Walking was surely easier than this, 'twas not a skill._  
><em>'Shit, it's just walking.'<em>  
>"OK, Adam, standing is good. Just take your time, wait till your head says you're stable, right?" Sam, the OT was a big burly bloke, his size alone inspired confidence. If you fell, this bloke could have you back on your feet in a heartbeat. "We need to work on stretching and strengthening those muscles."<br>Adam held on to the parallel bars with a vice like grip. This was his fourth session, but only the second time he'd actually managed to stand and stay up.  
><em>Time, 'tis all I need<em>.  
><em>'For fuck's sake, you came back from the dead, walking should be a piece of piss!' <em>  
>He lurched forward, face a frozen mask of concentration.<br>"Careful now, take it easy." Sam was calmly cautiously with his patient.  
>Adam straightened, pulling his shoulders back, reaching his full height. Muscles tightened, joints braced, locking into place, the fluid in his inner ear found its proper level.<br>He stepped forward.  
><em>'Control, it's all about control.'<em>  
>This he knew well. To hold your mount steady before battle, grip hard the nerve as you await the foe's first charge. All required dominance, the mastery of will over body, this he could accomplish.<br>"That's brilliant, very good." Sam grinned. "That is...yes, really amazing!"  
>Then Adam let go of the bars.<br>The OT's look turned to concern. "Just take your time..."  
>Leaning back, rolling his neck, Adam twisted his spine with care. "I need a sword." He growled low as unused ligaments and tendons protested at their sudden employment.<br>"Pardon...A what?" Sam frowned.  
>"I need a ..." A smile quirked the corner of his mouth and he looked down. He call to mind the pull and bunch of muscles as he swung his weapon high above his head, then the downward slice with all his weight behind it. The thought of the pure physical release of it, filled him with macabre joy .<br>"A swim, I would...like to swim."  
>"Good Idea, we can fit that in the next session. I'll organise it."<p>

From the doorway Letty watched as Sergeant Bourne sat cautiously back in his wheelchair. His back was to her, the movements looked smoother than she'd expected.  
>Anger at the exchange with Rob had left her drained, her head was pounding again. Part of her wanted to leave, put the case study on hold till he was fully recovered. She could write up from the rest of his notes, then ring him and ask his permission to use it, she wouldn't have to see him, be near him.<br>But the rest of her wanted so much to touch. This response grew more intense the nearer she got to him, as did the damn headache she was fighting.  
>Was it the maleness of him that seemed to pull her in, was she just so sexually frustrated that she'd fixated on the only 'safe' male she knew? But that was silly, she knew other men who were just as...just as...what?<br>The thought of Rob's failed attempt at charm made her cringe. But the Sarge? There was something different with him, a scent, an impression. He made her feel ...safe. But that was ridiculous she'd only spoken one word to him since he regained consciousness, and that hadn't worked out too well!  
>And conscious he wasn't exactly <em>safe<em> anymore.  
>Sam saw her. "Hi Letty, come to see my star patient?"<br>"Er, yes...I've got some stuff I need to talk to..."  
>Adam froze. Seeing her now was unexpected. He had taken so much care selecting the correct words. He had formed and re-formed phrases in his head a thousand times. No declarations of love or desire, but courtly, courteous words of greeting that would not cause alarm or affront. But all deserted him; instead he stared like a foolish, heartsore boy.<br>She was there before him; if he reached forward he could touch the unruly nut brown hair she had pinned up off her neck.  
>He wanted to stroke that neck.<br>_No_, he wanted to_ kiss_ that neck, rest his lips on the living pulse of her.  
>"I need for you to...umm; well it's a bit of a cheek really." She dragged a spare chair forward and sat to the side of him, with the silly idea that if he saw her eyes...he might read what was in her mind.<br>"I'll be off then, leave you in the care of our baby Doc here. See you on Thursday Sarge." Sam gave a mock salute and left.  
>They were alone in the OT gym. Letty cleared her throat to speak. "The fact is I'm a junior doctor in my last year, and you were...are my final case study..." She forced herself to look up into his face. "I've written up your treatment, medications, the various ICU procedures adopted..." Her voice faded.<br>Eyes, she could have sworn were storm cloud grey, looked back clear, crystalline blue. The lack of expression in them closing him off from her.  
>Looking into the alert but unresponsive face, her heart dipped. It was all in her mind. He was just a man. "Well, I need your written permission to use it."<br>"Because I did not die?"  
>She sighed, smiling. "I know it seems dreadful, but I would be eternally grateful. This is a large percentage of my final marks." Letty shuffled papers as an excuse not to look at him. "There's so much work gone..."<br>"And if I give my assent...will you not return here? Will I no longer be..." The face had grown hard, and he drew back, his head to one side. "...of interest...to you?"  
>Letty's soft laugh did not hide her regret. "Sergeant you'll be gone very soon. You have a new future to make." The words were followed hard by the thought 'far from me'.<br>"You ask a boon...a favour, thus a debt would be owed?"  
>Letty's mouth fell open. "Well I suppose so, but..."<br>He knew well the dance.  
>The play betwixt man and woman. Sometimes the delicate step, sometimes the rough pursuit, but always a dance.<br>Should he do thus and play the gallant, woo her with the artful compliments and soft sighs so recommended by the poets?  
>Or tell her of his ardour, cover her with kisses and ravishment be his end?<br>_Aye,_ and end it would too, _an end to hope_.  
>The memories of his marriage came to him. There had been no courtship; her father had died leaving her alone in the world. The matter had been arranged by his uncle. It was a time when he was still a likely match, full of youth and honour. Ah, but foolish pride and greed lost him much, and later history proved his errors.<br>_'Dinner, take her to dinner you tosser.'_  
>"I would..." He searched again for the correct words. "Dine with me. Show me your city."<br>"You're asking me out?"  
>"Ah, you are not taken by the thought. An old soldier not to your taste perhaps?"<br>"Oh, no it's..." Then she saw his grin break though. "Sergeant Bourne, you are a sneaky sod." She handed him the permission sheet and a pen, smiling shyly.  
><em>'He shoots...he scores! You, my son, have just pulled.'<em>


	14. Chapter 14

The bit about inheritance law is pure imagination, I did look it up but was confronted by 5 pages of impenetrable blah, so I resorted to vagueness, sorry.

Once again Jen, I thank you for indulging me x

A Ghost Story 14

No action is without consequence.

A fact he was well aware of. But so far the consequences of his chosen path had been...negligible. A few hundred years of teasing exceptionally unimpressive breathers.

Not that arduous, tedious mark you, but one got ones entertainment where one could. A little whisper here, a little touch there, all served to season the dish of his existence.

But dullness needed to be kept at bay. He knew there were many who did watch, who believed they 'learned'. But not for him the study of tiresome lives and insignificant habits.

All that hopeful, earnest concentration, bored him to the point where distraction was _essential._

His own 'study' had been in the control of the small elemental energies that drifted in the ether.

The flick of a finger and a cog refused to turn, thus a lever ceased to operate, a break failed to depress and a machine hurtled to its destruction.

Oh_, and electricity_! How he loved that primeval force of nature, how he lamented its undiscovered potential in his own time. The pain he could have cleanly and efficiently inflicted, the delight its flickering pulses would have given him had he gained access to its power those long years ago.

Now he seemed to play only an endless game of 'Blind Man's Bluff' with tiny worthless animals, no challenge, no reward.

His onetime leftenant had been one of those who watched. An unimaginative man, prone to sentimentality..._affections._ The idiot genuinely had beliefs! He had actually witnessed him sneaking to mass, one day he had even seen him at his 'Hail Mary's'_._

The witless fool.

But that fool had attained something _he_ desired; he had become a breather.

Commandeered a living corpse and gained _life._

He had grown envious of the fool's fortune. The notion of what could be accomplished with the knowledge he now possessed, what power he could achieve, no longer dependent on the fickle nature of kings and princes.

Untold wealth was given away in public gaming; all he need do would be to select a walking corpse of his own. (Naturally one of goodly physique, one that did grace the world with manly beauty.) Assist 'it' to attain riches, bring 'it' to the point of death, then occupy 'it'.

Simple.

He even knew the very carcass to help him accomplish his desires, and the irony of that choice was not lost on him.

11111111111

The North Lodge of Locke Hall was a small cottage designed to look like the Victorian ideal of a 'small cottage'. This meant cute rather than functional. Gabled roofs and diamond leading in the mullioned windows, caused the interior to be rather dark, but it was still charming.

Rob wandered about the place flicking cupboards open and glancing out of low windows.

This was the sort of place Letty would love, nice hollyhock and delphinium strewn garden, even an elderly wisteria draped over the front of the house.

'Cliché Cottage'. He grinned, appreciating his own wit.

Added to that was the presence, not a mile away, of Lockeham village, with its highly rated primary school and made-over, picturesque high street. Even the Chinese takeaway had blackened oak beams.

It wasn't _his_ style, but then he had no plans to live there, just install Letty and the kid for his grandmother. Keeping Granny happy while he accepted the offer of a partnership with an up and coming law firm in London, they specialised in human rights cases. It was just the chance he was looking for.

In his opinion it was all working out rather well. Marriage to Bella had been an error of judgement, too much socialising and playing court to her, not what he had intended at all.

Letty was a much safer bet. A nice 'modern' relationship on the go, partner who was a doctor, plus a bright, pretty kid, all fell into the image of himself that he liked. It was sellable and, very conveniently, got him back into Granny's good books. Of course Letty was right about the money, it meant there was a chunk Bella would never get near, simply because he could claim it was not his in the first place, inheritance law was a wonderful and mysterious thing.

He leant against the carved newel post of the narrow staircase and, for a second, tried to imagine the child he had never actually met, trail a teddy bear up to bed. The only picture he got was an old illustration of 'Christopher Robin'.

He saw himself not as an unfeeling father, just a disinterested one. Denying the relationship in the first place had been a panic move, there'd seemed too much at stake to cloud the water with a pregnant mistress.

Letty threw a blinder when she'd walked away, he'd been ready to fight dirty, maybe even pay her off, but there was no need in the end. And her mother being a dreadful snob made it easy to reinsert himself into Letty's life, now that it was she useful.

Yep, it was all coming neatly together.

A high pitched breathy, hissing sound caught his attention, but the shadowed corner the noise had come from only contained an old-fashioned radiator. Old pipes, he thought, obviously the source.

Shrugging, he turned and left the house.


	15. Chapter 15

A Ghost Story 15

The mirror before him showed another man's face. But it was not too dissimilar from the one he was use to.

Where beneath the corner of his left eye he bore a small curved scar, this new face had a pox mark.

_Chicken-pox scar!_

Chicken-pox scar, he corrected himself.

_His_ scar, a woman had inflicted. Another of his cursed loves. His deadly past would ever shame him, no matter what amends he might endeavour to make.

_Life is shit and then you die…sometimes._

On his right knee there was a smooth, round patch of skin caused by a fall from his bike when he was twelve years old. On his belly, a jagged, puckered line stretched above his navel, a piece of shrapnel caught him the first time he saw action in the Gulf. It had nearly been his last.

All the marks on this flesh were known to him, all their causes stored in his odd dual consciousness.

He thought of Arlette Walters, was she his little brown bird? Was she that fragile, precious gift he had lost so long ago, before his life had twisted and soured? Could the woman who bore so close a physical resemblance to his lost first love, could she indeed be _his _Arlette? So close did she appear in nature and form that his fancy said... yes, she was.

And was he the same man? This body produced new oddities every day, new self knowledge.

Was it possible that souls, purer than the likes of his...was it possible they could return, migrate to new lives? His own blighted self had survived, might not it be true of all?

Perhaps each soul did return, to right wrongs, correct misdeeds performed all unknowing.

So unlike his considered sins.

Would it not seem a more logical estate than simply Heaven as never ending reward and Hell as never ending punishment? There was no completion there, no real redemption possible for the true sinner.

He scrubbed his hand across his now shorn head and frowned. Never had he been so lacking hair, another oddness.

The decision to shave it had been his own. He had been given the razor and a multitude of oils and unguents whose purpose gradually became clear to him on inspection. Then, as if it had been the most natural thing in the world, he raised the humming, vibrating contrivance and began to rid himself of his untidy locks.

As a younger man, he had been firm in his male vanity, women had seemed to find him goodly to look at. Perhaps his neglected appearance had discouraged the little doctor.

The inner voice that was becoming his own told him_, she's only seeing the wounded, dependant patient. What we want is for her to see the man. _

He stroked the velvet softness of his own head and smiled.

He would keep the beard, trim it close, but keep it.

Later, wandering between the OT gym, the canteen and his room was almost his only occupation. The hours had grown heavy with tedium, soon he found himself hatching a plan of escape.

From the thought's inception, he was eager to be about in the world, to touch and experience what he had only before looked upon. And why not? Was he not now clothed in dress acceptable to the age? The coarse blue stuff of his britches chaffed less than he had anticipated, though he found the braies given to him, uncomfortable to wear and abandoned them.

'_Commando, nice!' _His inner voice laughed.

The thin cotton of what he knew was called a tee shirt, was nought more than a chemise in substance, but he was dressed fittingly as far as he could see. He would not shame himself in any public thoroughfare.

Standing straight, squaring his shoulders, his lips curved in an unfamiliar surprised grin.

He would try himself upon the world.

The knowing of things was most wonderful to him. Most certainly he had watched, listened and presumed he understood much of the advances. Machines, materials, even the changes wrought in the hearts of men; these were not hidden from him. But to be part of it, 'twas a much finer thing than just to have the knowledge of it. How much lay before him as Adam Bourne he could not tell, but he meant to taste well of the world again. This time by his own lights, not those of stagnant, self pitying greed he had in the past followed.

And soon, if the little doctor did but allow it, he would sup with her, talk gently of this and that. He would not force his attentions.

He would court her tenderly.

Might she perhaps allow him the slightest touch of her finger tips, the caress of her cheek? And, if his passions held, mayhap grant him a small...

_Oh, for Christ sake man, just get yer finger out, go! _

Adam pulled abruptly away from the mirror, frustration tightening at his belly. He turned, striding from the room.

1111111111

Sitting at the traffic lights, Letty drummed her fingers impatiently on the wheel. Time wasn't really an issue, she had three hours before Sophie finished school, but the shopping had taken her longer than it should, and then there was the packing away of the damn stuff when she got home. The lunchtime traffic wasn't heavy, just annoying. There was freezer stuff that was already dripping onto the recently cleaned seat covers.

Letty leant her chin on the steering wheel; she was starting to give up hope of ever having any control in her life at all.

Rob's solicitors had written to inform her that he wanted a DNA test to establish his parenthood of Sophie.

Her mother was delighted, dreaming of a brilliant future of public schools and garden parties for her granddaughter. Her father saw Letty and Sophie finally safe and financially secure. No one seemed to think Letty might have plans of her own, plans that had been four years in the making.

Then there was the Sarge.

What _was_ she doing?

She liked him. OK, every time she thought of him her belly tingled, tightened. She had come to realise the throbbing headaches that plagued her, were _him_. Every time she went near him it started, he was causing her tension headaches. Anyone else would have just stayed away, but she couldn't. If he looked at her she felt twelve again.

Letty was in serious crush, _and it hurt_.

All she had to do was be in the same room as him, look at him…

1111111111

Making his way down the four flights of stairs from the Brain Trauma Unit with gathering purpose, Adam considered his previous confinement to the town limits. Knighton was as far as he had ever reached in his meanderings. Locksley had been beyond his boundaries.

So, he would go to Locksley, visit the site of his former home. Now he would discover if he was truly unfettered by his past.

As he stepped into the sunshine and crisp air he realised the shortcomings of his clothing. He had grown soft, he told himself, too used to the constant warmth of the unit. Undeterred, he strode on, what was he, a foolish girl to be shamed by cold, forced to retreat from his purpose?

Across the ambulance bays and car park, he gathered his pace, out onto the busy streets that lay beyond the hospital.

Letty sighed and hummed tunelessly.

Suddenly the lights of the cab in front lit up red. She jammed on her brakes and swore. A man was standing in the middle of the road looking about him while the cab driver leant out of his window and hurled abuse.

"Christ's sake, caarm on, move ya fuckin' wanker!"

The tall, lightly dressed, oddly familiar figure turned and used a very old Italian gesture.

"Sarge!" Letty gawped. The shaggy, untidy dark hair and scruffy beard had gone, but it was him, no doubt about it. Standing in the middle of the road like a complete nutter.

She sat back, gobsmacked. What the Hell was he doing out there? She let the engine die and unclipped her seat belt. She had no choice but to get him off the road and into her car.

The throb above her eyes had already begun.

"Sarge, please, you need to get off the road." Walking toward him she held out her hand, a hopeful pleading look in her eyes.

"'Tis a timely interruption you make. I am on my way to Locksley but this oaf is…"

"Look you're holding up the traffic, get in the car." She hoped he wouldn't want her to take him to Locksley, where ever that was?

"You are indeed an angel Dr Walters." He offered the cab driver a look of disdain as he stalked passed.

_Get in the car tosser, it's soddin' freezing. _

Letty opened the passenger door and rolled her eyes as he tried to climb in head first. Two attempt later, car horns around them playing a fugue of discontent, he at last folded his long body into her small car.

"Put your belt on." Letty started the engine, it protested. She tried again, they jumped forward.

"Sweet Christ's balls woman! It needs more gas, you're letting the clutch up too fast." As he spoke, Adam frowned, puzzled at his own words.

"I know!" she snapped, and promptly did it again.

"Dip it again, ease up and give it more…" He stopped at the look of restrained fury on Letty's face. Sitting back, he clipped the seat belt in place.

"'Twas a mere suggestion."

The car hopped one more time and they were back in the flow of traffic.

"What are you doing out here, you're not even dressed for this weather, what were you thinking? Bugger, now I'll have to take you back," she said through clenched teeth as she searched for a break in the flow of cars. She'd have to take the next to turn off to get back to the hospital

"I wish to go to Locksley." He held the dashboard with one hand as if worried that the car would jump again. "If you will not take me, I needs must go alone." He moved to open the door just as she signalled to turn.

"_NO!"_ The turn missed, she glanced at her slowly defrosting shopping. "OK, I have to take this lot home. _Then_ we'll sort out where you're going."

She added firmly. Reaching over, Letty rummaged through her bag that lay at his feet.

_"Holy shit woman, look where you're going!"_ The car swerved alarmingly, his hand shot out and grabbed the wheel.

Sitting back up holding the painkillers, she steadied herself on his leg, palm flat on his thigh, then pushed away.

The contact jolted straight to his groin. Adam swallowed hard and barked… "Take the bloody wheel!"

Letty shot him a furious ratty look, then fixed her eyes back on the road. "I suppose you could do _sooo_ much better!" She popped two capsules from their foil containers and swallowed them

He raised an eyebrow, shrugged his shoulders and snapped. _"Does the Pope shit in the woods?"_


	16. Chapter 16

A Ghost Story 16

"'Ok, I live up there." Letty pointed up to the eighth floor of the huge grey high rise block. "The sooner we get this lot stashed, the sooner I can get you back to where you belong. Hopefully in one piece." Letty turned back to her shopping muttering, "if I can keep you off the road. And…"

Adam walked away to the main doors.

Letty stood taken aback, surrounded by bulging carrier bags. "Oy, I could do with a hand here!"

He ignored her and stood in front of the tsunami proof doors.

_She's gonna hate you for that! _

Adam's disgust was conspicuous. Did she think him a child to be scolded, chastised? Or mayhap some pack animal to be loaded for her convenience? He stood leaning on one hip, arms crossed. Face impassive, save one slightly raised eyebrow. No, he was neither! Let her know and understand, _he _was a man of dignity and stature.

"Rude bastard, Letty snarled. She twisted with an odd, almost dancelike bounce, her bum flicking towards the hidden electronic lock.

Adam gave her a studied look of faintly bored curiosity.

She ignored him.

Sod him, he didn't deserve the explanation that the key fob was in her back pocket, and that she had just swiped it.

The next four minutes in a lift were problematic.

She stood in what amounted to a small, slow moving, grubby cupboard, breathing in the fumes of the strongest disinfectant on the planet. She was furious with him, but try as she might the only thing that really mattered was her desperate need to nuzzle the neatly trimmed beard, run her finger tips over the soft suede of his hair. Damn it, if only he hadn't been so tall! In a flash of erotic horror she thought of doing _it_ there, in the awful lift, surrounded by her grocery bags and the perfume of a public loo!

He had been patient with the solicitous care he had received. Accepting of their charity, which was not in his nature. _Now_ he was weary of being treated as a helpless infant not fit to be abroad in the world. Had he not fought the infidels? Boxed the ears of wolfsheads! Wooed the most pleasing of ladies? Did she want him on leading strings? Fie, but this was not what he had intended. He was to have established himself once more a man reborn in truth and spirit. Then claimed her love as his own and lived as he should have done.

In the stead of such, he was in a 'lift', a metal box that had a smell so astringent and disgusting in character that it burned his nose, worse still, he was caught between deepest ire _at_, and longing _for_ the infuriating woman beside him.

With stealthy eye he traced her. From the tips of her scuffed fur boots, up the purple coloured hose that clung to the curves of her legs. To the short green skirt that barely covered the fullness of her hips. Thence to her waist, the gateway to her generous breasts, whose heavy roundness made him grit his teeth. The answering twitch at his loins prompted him to turn away lest he betray his lust, and she took it for a weakness.

_This wank tank stinks! _

Severely agitated, Letty wondered how come a lift that was only going eight floors could take so long. When at last there was a 'ping' and the doors slid open, she didn't care about hauling the bags herself, all she wanted was to dump him back at the hospital and never see him again.

Inside the flat, secretly thanking the goddess of tidy, Letty set about shoving the defrosting food into her freezer.

Adam stood silent, examining the familiar surroundings, avoiding looking at the pleasing view of her rump as she bent down,

He knew this place, had stood in this very spot, watched her at night chores, seen her drowsing amidst her books. His eyes caught the open bedroom door and neatly made bed within. He shook his head to dislodge the rousing thoughts that set a shiver in his belly. He could almost taste her…

Letty looked up. "If you feel _inclined_ to help now, you could put that lot in that cupboard." She didn't think actually he'd do it. The rustle of the bags behind her made her smirk a little.

Small victories could be so nice.

When he had finished his allotted task, Adam admired his work.

_YEP, piece of piss._

With a nod to his inner voice, he closed the cupboard door and stood back, safe in the knowledge that he was ready to deal with 21st century life on his own terms.

On her knees Letty swore gently as she found another opened packet of fish fingers, that made three. She stuffed them back in the iced up hole and harrumphed.

But the safe and sensible storage of frozen food could only work as a diversionary tactic for so long, sooner or later she was going to have to deal with the big, pissed off man now prowling her flat. She bit her lip, he was driving her nuts, all she wanted was to be rid of him_. _

_Liar, _all she wanted was to bonk his brains out!

Adam scowled, he now watched the street below. How oft had it been his lot to be down there looking up? Yet now he had gained his yearned for desire, what had he done but squander it. The resolve to woo her with quiet persistence snapped in him. Spinning on his heel it took but two strides to bring him to her.

"What the…?"

Letty was standing on top of a kitchen stepstool, holding open the cupboard door, looking slightly bewildered by the three bulky shopping bags jammed precariously in. Leaning forward she wobbled slightly.

Wide, strong hands circled her waist, caught her, held her. "Ooo!"

It was not a cry of alarm or annoyance. Rather a small gasp of pleasure.

His flesh on her flesh. The little purple cardigan she wore had ridden up, exposing the pale sculpted skin at the hollow of her spine.

Behind her Adam stooped, his head incline to one side, he breathed in the scent of her.

She felt him too close.

He breathed her deep into his lungs, bringing the spice of her echoing, drifting and mixing with his air, following its true course, till at last it would reach his blood and natural home.

Would once more be part of him.

All this she felt, but did not understand.

Then the firm pressure of his mouth, the heat of his tongue touched her and she accepted it. Bracing herself, hands flat against cabinet doors, her breath hitched too shallow to help her brain. She managed no protest, just an insignificant low sigh.

His hands snaked about her waist pulling her back onto him. And there it was, surrender. Now at last she was his.

"Enough of this." Adam almost snarled as he twisted her to face him. Dragging his open mouth across a tender curve, scouring artfully at her sensitive belly with his beard.

Letty found herself clinging with one hand to his shoulder, the other trembling above the soft brush of his hair.

The need to take her skin between his teeth seemed bizarrely vital. He nipped, tugged at the rim of her navel.

She was sure her bones were melting, positive. A sound came from her that even she didn't recognise.

"Come lay with me, now…" The breath rasped on his words as clothes were pushed aside by demanding hands.

"I…I can't…insurance… the BMA will…I'll be sacked…" It was piteously inadequate.

Hands now kneaded her bottom, his teeth relentlessly nipped, mouth sucked, even his damn nose teased her with its drag and persuasive prods.

"Oh, _again_!"

And he did, slowly. It was worse, beautifully dreadful.

"Now, _we must_…" It was Adam's turn to lose coherence, as Letty slid down in his arms and took his face between her small hands.

She kissed his mouth, once, twice softly, three times urgent, four burning, five and six times demanding. She withdrew her mouth but their eyes sealed the bond. He lifted her, walked to the bedroom with her held in his arms. Her room was lit only by the low winter sun.

Shoes were kicked off, zips stuck and were wrestled with between urgent kisses.

Then her head hit the eiderdown, bounced as he followed over her.

"I would…tease you, have a care of…" Adam's voice was taut, breath short. "but God's balls I must be in you…" Then he was. Full, hard. No gentle cleverness with his mouth or hands, no subtlety as he had imagined. Just hard muscled entitlement. She was his to have possession of.

He stilled, jaw fixed and tense. He had entered a woman, hot, tight. After all this time, the delight was glorious. His cock owned by her, clasped, known. His fullness possessed by her, reliant on her. And she moved, circled her hips. He thought he would die again there and then. The distant memory of this exquisite pleasure was rewarded by its thrilled rush along trembling sinews. He withdrew sharply, it was almost too much. But Letty would not allow it, she pulled his mouth to hers, toyed there.

For an instant her actions shocked. She was his love, his pure, perfect love, how did she dare to…Then she sucked his tongue, and such doubt was gone.

Letty gave herself up to it. At that point he could be a serial predator and still she would have begged for more. She knew herself to be a fool, a stupid, trusting idiot. But it didn't matter, Adam was in her, riding her hard, later they could play, make promises, but now they both needed completion, as fast as they could.

"There my dove, there…remember you this?" Adam's driving hips were relentless, his energy unending.

Letty felt the blood pumping, the swelling of her sex, and drew down, dragging him onto her clit, till the white light flooded her and she called a lost name.

Adam heard it, almost cried out in reply, but the shivering, tight spasms below his stones continued relentlessly. The dam held, the heat grew, tightening. But still he surged, flesh so sensitive it was pain to move, but move he must. He was a king, an emperor among men, so precise, so exact was the tension. But still no release.

Letty flagged, unpractised, unfamiliar with this force, she almost wept as the unbearable glory of the light flooded her again.

He shifted above her, turned her to her side, drove harder from a new angle. Surely he was not forced never to feel the gush of his seed again? Was this now to be his curse?

"Please…" She squirmed, his pounding was unyielding. She felt herself shoved across the bed by the force of him, tried to hold on, but failed. "Please…no more…I…"

Then he stretched up, as if an outside force pulled at his head and shoulders, lifting him. "I cannot…I have no…" The desperate thrusts fell to a shuddering heave, his hammer of his heart like thunder in his ears. An animal-like howl took him.

The torrent poured, filled her.

For him the perfect moment, all control gone, smashed on the shore of his satisfaction.

He flung himself away from her, sweat trickled at his neck as muscles eased.

They lay breathing hard, the storm ridden out.


	17. Chapter 17

Thank you Jen, without your help this would be…Blah!

A Ghost Story 17

The soft, warm body of Arlette curved at his side was a miracle, that she loved him still was a miracle. Had she not called out his true name at the moment of her passion's height? Was that not proof enough that she was indeed his little bird?

And now the delight of her sweet body tucked close within the crook of his arm, her cheek on his chest, made his heart swell. Contentment must…_would_ be theirs, he knew it.

Letty stretched, rubbed the tip of her nose over his small, hard nipple. Post coital dreaminess had her limbs loose, but still craving the touch of his.

Toying with one of her curls, winding it about his finger, he kissed the top of her head. He was roused again. "Aye lady, you may well tease me, but 'tis you should be wary methinks."

Shifting slightly, she bit down on a giggle, keeping her face straight. "And pray why, kind sir?"

Adam grinned. In truth he would have her on him, have her move slow above him that he might watch as pleasure took her, see the rise and fall of her full breasts as she rocked. Catch them in his palms, feel the glorious weight of them. Aye, a woman's paps…

_Paps? Ah, riiight. Paps, oh, yea…_

Eyes closed, he chuckled as she stroked his cock, gone was the shock that 'his Arlette' could be so forward, now he relished her guileless attentions.

"You do say things in such a…I don't know, sort of 'ye olde worlde', poetic way. It's cute, but sometimes I…"

"It displeases you? Then I needs must alter it."

_Just cut the 'methinks shit,' tosser!_

"Oh, no, I sort of like it, just sometimes I wonder…" She stopped speaking as his hand covered hers.

Slowing her movements, curling her fingers about his root, he growled softly, "Lift yourself on me."  
>She bit her lip, she wasn't really that experienced. Rob had been only the second man she had slept with. The first was a fumbled 'one-off' at uni. Then came Rob. That'd lasted six months and was a revelation. He taught her all the things <em>he<em> liked.

"I'm sorry…I'm sore, I don't think I can." She looked up at his closed eyes, lips slightly parted, Adam's apple dipping as he swallowed. Oh, how she wanted to…"Would you like me to…" Letty slid down, kissing his belly as she went.

"Well, well, your time has not been squandered I see," a cold voice chuckled.

Adam sat up sharply, rolling Letty away from him. "Cover yourself!" he snapped.

"What?" She recoiled at his tone.

"Clothe yourself…Now!" Placing himself between her and the noxious shadow, Adam seethed, unwilling to let her think him mad, but ready to rage against the evil that had joined them.

"Oh, how truly noble of you. Fuck many of them or just this one?" The shade's malevolence spilled like acid into the air. Adam thrust himself from the bed and out of the room, hoping, as he was the target of its coarse goading, the foul being would follow.

"She's well formed I suppose, for a leper. But small, is she a dwarf?"

"Is there no diversion elsewhere?" Adam hissed.

In the bedroom, Letty pulled on jeans and a jumper, she was close to tears. "I don't understand what I did. OK, you changed your mind, but…"

Outside, in the living room, the evil circled, its tone jeering. "I only came to wish you well, tell you I will soon be joining you upon this worldly stage again."

"Do what you wish, but mark you well, have a care if you mix in any of my concerns. I know more of this world than you think."It was threat filled advice.

"Oh my, you are a saint now? I recollect a different man from this…this…" The shade sneered. "… pitiful jest before me."

"Look, I don't know what this is all about, but…" Letty froze in the doorway. Adam, tall and glorious in his nakedness, was standing glaring at, what she could only describe as a grey smudge in the air.

"Ah, she_ sees_. At last one of them is observant."

The smudge swirled about her, Letty shivered at the appalling touch of the cold loathing smear in the air.

She wiped at her eyes. "Adam, what's happening?"

He was before her, wrapping his arms about her, holding her tightly to him. "A nothing, the imagining of wasted life." He kissed her brow, spoke with his lips still touching her skin. "I will tell you all, I promise you will know me, truly know me."

An iniquitous, disembodied chortle followed his words and chilled her bones. "Adam, what is this? You were talking to…something, here…" She pushed him away. "_No_. No, this is my home…" Turning to looked for whatever she'd seen, but whatever it was had gone.

Letty stepped further back from him.

Adam stood, his nakedness forgotten. "You must listen to me. It is not…a simple thing." He faltered, at a loss. He had imagined time to ease the thoughts, that she might remember him, their life perhaps, their home, their child?

"_Simple._ That's an understatement. What the hell have I done…" She rubbed her face, cupped her forehead, trying to make what she had seen, heard, fit into reality.

A tinny trill of music sounded, her phone's alarm. "Shit, I have to get Sophie." She looked at him, he seemed so…vulnerable. "Whatever this is, whatever you think you know. I have to go, _now_." Her thoughts tumbled into the nearest logical hypothesis she had seen…nothing. A detached retina would cause a dark area in the vision. Nothing sinister there, and the vigorous sex could have origin of the detachment. The sounds? What sounds? There were times when the flat's dreadful plumbing could sound like the whole building was about to fracture. There, her scientific practicality took her fear and rationalised it.

"Look, I don't care, Sophie has to be picked up." She looked at him, the absurdity of him naked in the middle of her flat, suddenly made her laugh. "You'd better get dressed."

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

Sophie took one look at Adam and shrieked "Big man!" running to him and flinging herself at him, wrapping her arms around one of his long legs.

The other young mothers at the waiting outside Sophie's pre-school eyed Adam with knowing smiles.

He, though surprised, was also delighted and lifted her smoothly onto the air. Sophie giggled. Strangely the wholesome scene irritated Letty, though she could not say why.

"Are we going for burgers?" The child hung about Adam's neck. It was possessive and complete. No way was she giving him up.

"No. We're taking Adam, Sergeant Bourne to the hospital. And you…"

"Are you sick?" Sophie looked worried.

Adam laughed. "Nay, I abide…" Glancing at Letty, he corrected himself. "I live there, for now." He turned to Letty. "Though I have no wish to return there. I know where…"

"Absolutely not, you have to go back. I could get sacked for…what we just did," she tried to whisper.

"What did you do, why can't I have burgers?"

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

Back at the unit Sue watched, grinning, as Letty tried to disengage Sophie from Adam.

"OK, scrungebucket, you want to see the funniest thing in the world?"

Sophie looked suspicious, but her curiosity was piqued. She nodded, sliding from Adam, took Sue's hand and followed her behind the nurses station.

"We have to go now." Letty would not meet his eyes.

He caught her upper arm and pulled her, un-protesting, into his room. He held her there. "I have a tale to tell. You may not like, or even understand, but tell it I must."

She shook her head. "Sex was a mistake, was a stupid thing to do. It won't happen again." Still she refused to look at him.

Adam held her chin between his finger and thumb. "You will hear me out lady. I have watched for lifetimes. Now you are here with me…" Grinning, he pulled her hard to him. "I will not simply give-you-up." He kissed her, a soft, yet possessive marking of her.

"Don't, please don't do this. I can't…not now."

"Mummmmmy, come see Susie's phone, there's a dog and…"

Letty broke away from him, not breaking eye contact till she reached the door. "Yes honey, I've seen it. Shall we get those burgers?"


	18. Chapter 18

Thank you to Jen and Jen for help and encouragement all the way.

And merry Christmas one and all

PS, if no spacing is appearing between the changes in location and time, I can only apologise, FF is being contrary at the mo and not letting me put them in, so sorry.

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

A Ghost Story 18

The sun does not warm her, the buttercups in the lush summer grass do not gladden her eye.

Only the dark rectangle of fresh turned earth before her occupies her mind. It had swallowed her father, her mother and her sisters too, all now interred deep this quiet churchyard.

All happiness went with them, every loving hope gone.

Her breath comes in stifled gulps, fighting the hard lump in her throat. Eyes stinging from tears shed and unshed.

There is nothing in her now, and empty future yawns wide and black.

_Letty had no idea a person could feel such grief._

_Was Sophie…?_

"Mistress, Mistress…" Someone is calling her, not a voice she knew, but there is warmth there...A woman kneels at her side her, pulls her into a hug, brushes back a wayward

lock of hair. "Your uncle is come my lamb."

wwwwwwwwwwwwww

Letty sat up looking about her. She was in Sophie's bed, the child slept on, small mouth pursed as she too was lost in dreams.

The thought of sleeping in her own bed was rejected. How could she? It was a wasteland without him. Not a place of rest, just of regret. Though she had rationalised what had followed their lovemaking, tiny shards of doubt still floated in her mind. She even considered moving back to her parents house for a while. Sighing and snuggling back around Sophie's small, warm body, sleep slid over her once more.

wwwwwwwwwww

The smell of Alfrieda's baking and of roasting meats filled the air, the sun shone. All was ready, she knew it. No need to open her eyes to see, or reach up to touch the coronet of flowers about her head. She understood what was happening, but strangely did not quite grasp the full meaning. All was familiar, she knew she stood At the doorway of Saint Peter's-atte-Highbrooke. She knew she had been brought to Christ there as a babe, that her family all lay buried in the churchyard.

_But Letty also knew she had never seen this place in her life. _

"Your hand child," an impatient older voice snapped.

She lifted her left hand was taken by another this one broader, long, strong calloused fingers. The nails clean and deep set. It was a hand used to work.

"_...a ploughman or a soldier,"_ Alfrieda had said of him.

Him, who was _Him_?

"Do you take this man…"

The hand that held hers gripped tighter. She felt his tension, but felt none herself.

Then, untroubled by how she got there, Letty looked up at the rafters above her parents large bed. She lay uncomfortably stiff on a damp patch of the sheet. The reason for her discomfiture lay on his belly, snoring softly.

He was her husband.

Letty knew the marriage had been hastily arranged. Two awkward, parentless, young relations married off, inheritances secured, obligations met. Two minor families now united and all was well.

wwwwwwwwwwww

He capered about the bed watching the sleeping form upon it. Soon he would claim ownership of that very form, sweet life would be his to enjoy once more. What power he would gain. His knowledge would serve him well in this world of greed and vaulting ambition. Such things appeared to achieve more than any industrious talent or skill.

Beauty and noise was all that had value, even when that beauty held an ugly soul, the noise a noxious lie, none truly cared. The shallowness he saw thrilled him. Humanity had not changed so much as it believed. A word in the right ear. The blending a lie with the modicum of truth, the swaying of opinion with false sentiment. Manipulation of the unwary by truths tailored to fit the mean opinions of middling philosophers, that was the way of it. He had heard a phrase and delighted in it; 'the triumph of style over content', it described this society concisely.

All was appearance.

Oh, this world suited him full fine and no mistake.

Rob Locke turned, snuffled against his pillow. Daylight thoughts chased darkened night imaginings through a looking glass forest. Rob frowned in sleep, unaware of his amused visitor.

The boy was still a hopeless case, though this incarnation was possibly less vomit-inducing than the previous. Here was a feral cunning that the shade was disposed to, ambitions that could be manipulated to serve more a useful purpose than _helping the poor? _Even the thought made him grimace.

But another consideration fixed him.

The boy was lithe, robust...lusty.

Unusually for him, he considered the employment this handsome body could be put to. He could not remember being young, he did not think he ever had been. He had sprung from his mother's womb fully formed in the armour of middle age.

That armour would soon be tested.

_wwwwwwwwwwwww_

_Letty eases a cramped leg away from Sophie and wriggles into a more comfortable position. Drowsily she rubs her nose, the tang of apples fills her mouth…_

The gnarled tree at her back allows little in the way of comfort, but much in it's solidity. She feels safe, secure here. On her lap lie the manor accounts, tally sticks, a quill. She runs an ink stained finger down a column of figures marked 'surplus.'

She is no longer alone.

_He_ is there, sprawled lazily at her side he takes up the ledger from her lap.

"Should not the steward perform this duty?"

How dare he?

"My father thought it better done by…"

_He_ tosses the book to one side, carelessly.

Letty feels the bile rise in her. She begins to stand, intent to collect the book and walk from him. But he catches her hand, looks at her palm, inspecting the stained fingers. He closes his much larger hand around them and holds fast. "I…" he falters.

She sits again, uncomfortable, embarrassed.

Letty looks at her husband.

He is young and very slender, his face is long, cheeks unfilled and unshaved, nose large, lips narrow. Mouth too wide, brow too high, topped with dark, untidy hair. She would not call this young man handsome, but she knows him.

His wide grey eyes hold her, and speak a plea…

_Remember me…_


	19. Chapter 19

Ghost story 19

Adam sat perched on the roof of the laundry block lifts. It was the highest spot he could find. Not as high as once he would have chosen, but it would suffice.

He wore a borrowed coat pulled about him against the cold wind. The thin stuff of it was warmer than he imagined it would be.

More marvels, he thought drearily.

In truth the 'marvels' palled now. Things moved more rapidly, 't was true, but life was still clogged with missed opportunities and broken dreams. Machines made machines that made the goods of life, but this left men without ways to earn their bread. So now, those men served the machines. A pretty turn-a-round if you please.

Remedies were available to cure most of the ills known in his own time, but now new infirmities occurred that could not be healed by old means. Sums of money that went beyond his comprehension were spent to discover cures for these new illnesses. There seemed no end to it.

The methods and compounds changed, but all else endured.

He pulled a creased envelope from the borrowed pocket, turning it idly in his hand.

All his hope lay in his love for Arlette, the life they might have together. And all could be dashed by the same man who had dripped poison into that love so long ago.

How could this happen even now?

'_Cos you let him. You're a soldier, remember the rules, identify the threat. Mark it's strength and weaknesses. Exploit both, and make safe. Straightforward textbook stuff. _

Make safe the cursed fiend? He is dead; I cannot make him _more_ dead! Understand this; there is no equation, no formula that will see him gone. He wants_ life._

Adams eyes wandered up to watch the crisscrossing of vapour trails above his head.

He drew the letter from its home, unfolded it and re read it's contents.

It seemed Sergeant Adam Bourne was ordered to a Rest and Recuperation Centre in Norfolk. He was to make himself ready to for15.00hours Tuesday…

_Looks like Her Majesty wanted me back!_

**HHHHHHHHHHH**

"Robert, I want to meet my great granddaughter, _and_ her mother." Lady Locke's soft tone belied the steel she was constructed of. "Tomorrow afternoon, we can have tea. Cook can make those ginger things you're so fond of."

Rob worried at a hangnail on his thumb. "Not too sure about tomorrow Grams, I'll have to talk to Letty first. I can't…"

"_Tomorrow_ Robert, four o'clock. You can show her around the gatehouse, see if she thinks it's suitable."

Christ, how was he going to get Letty to agree to this? He needed more time to work on her.

**HHHHHHHHHHHHH**

The dreams were coming think and fast now, and not just when she was asleep. Finding herself standing outside the main entrance for ENT with no idea how she got there was bad enough, but thinking she was waiting for the sound of a horse and rider, was worse. She had looked around convinced her husband was coming home, that she must wait, tell him her news…

Letty pulled herself together, went back to A and E and finished her shift, trying not to think about the images in her head.

Nor the smell of smoke that would suddenly invade her nostrils as she got into a lift, the sound of lowing cattle, the bleating of sheep. Disorientation was making her lightheaded.

Avoiding Adam was a problem. She ached to see him, but daren't. It was all connected with him, though her dreams only showed her the wiry young man with eyes that begged her to remember.

Then there was the uneasy feeling she had in her own home now. Every time she turned, she expected to see that grey offensive mist.

It was getting ridicules.

Turning down the corridor to the car park exit, Letty hit a wall of male chest and hopped back.

Adam, his expression puzzled, hurt, stood there. "You did not come to me, and now you recoil…?"

"What? Oh…" Letty glanced around, looking for an escape route.

He reached for her, but she stepped away.

"I'm sorry I have to go."

Adams arms fell to his sides. His look hardened, turning his head slightly to one side, brow raised in question. The look was of disappointment. "You are as culpable as I, you could have refused me." His heart sang at the remembrance of their lovemaking. Hers, obviously, did not. It was then he caught the bewildered look, saw pain flit across her features.

"You mocked my love, rejected our child. Turned to that…heinous goblin, _your gaming comrade_." She said softly as tears slid slowly down her cheeks. "You laughed at all I held dear."

"_Arlette? You know me_?" Stunned, Adam took hold of her shoulders, dragged her into his arms. He laughed, shook his head. "No sweet bird, no. 'T was all untrue. Lies tore you from me, naught but lies…" he held her in the tightest of embraces, rubbing his cheek against her hair.

"No, I saw your face when you beheld our daughter, there was contempt there…"

"_Nay,_ you saw fear, I was a father. I, who barely knew my own, what did I know of family? I sold my sister into marriage when she was bare out of leading strings just for the price of my knight's goods. Now I was given everything a man could want, but knew not what to do with it." The cold stairwell echoed with the sadness of his words. "I did not deserve what you gave me." He kissed her forehead, closed his eyes at the memory of all his foolishness. For foolishness it was, pure and simple. The bad judgement of a boy pretending to be a man. He cupped her face in his hands, studied each loved feature. "I wronged you, but not as you believed."

Letty looked up into those clear, hurting eyes. What pain he had, what…

"_No." _She forced herself away from him. "This is _not_ happening…any of this…"she fluttered her hand about her head. "It's a dream, a delusion, a _something_. I'm just stressing about my finals, about Rob, _about_ _you!" _She jabbed an accusing finger at his chest. "None of this is real, not you, not any of it!"

Adam grabbed her, scooting them into an alcove beneath a fight of stairs. "Believe it! I robbed you, took your youth, deserted you and our child, ran from your pain…_Remember me!" _ He shook her, so desperate his fervour.

Letty felt her belly pulsing deep, fear and loneliness spread through her.

He confirmed the dreams. She, Arlette, had grown to love her young, inept husband, and he returned that love. Her sixteen years had been all happiness and comfort, till the pestilence took her family. His nineteen had been a tale of tragedy, loss and anger. With their marriage, he found relief from his isolation, she gave him warmth, affection he had never known, with it grew hopefulness.

Till the appearance of that detested trickster.

Letty rubbed the tears from her cheeks, cuffed her wet nose like a child. "Who are you now? You lied then, you lie still, 'tis all deception… She pushed to free herself of him. "Are you still his_ 'thing'_. Will he blight this life too?" A desperate thought came to her. "_The child_…please, I beg, let him not hurt the child!"

"He cannot harm you or she. The leech is baffled by love. He comes to mock and whine, feed off the anguish he breeds, 'tis all he can do." Though secretly he knew better, yet he kissed her temple in reassurance. "I will not let him win again. You think me still the foolish boy?" He stroked her hair, softly bringing her back to him.

"All…" Letty hiccupped between her tears. "…has gone…" Her brain said no, but her heart longed for that time before.

Suddenly a shuddered caught her. "_Save us…He is here! I feel him_." She thumped weakly at Adam's chest. "_Still-he-is-here..."_

He held her firmly to him.

"Oh, this is _so_ touching." Knowing malice filled that hated voice, it shivered in the air close by her face. "And what did he tell you missy, hmmm? _He is sorry? It was all a dreadful mistake?"_ The whisperer sneered a plaintive parody.

Letty pulled back, alert to Shade's intent. "Come to enjoy our pain? You pitiful unlovely imp!"

"Ah, isn't she the brave one now. Going to do _'kissy, kissy, all make up'_ are we?" He sniggered from behind them now, the hollow laughter echoed off the clinically bright hospital walls.

"Get you to Hell!" Adam cursed.

"Ah, well we both know that's not going to happen, now don't we." The Shade sat on the stairs looking down on them. "Anyway, if I go why not you…not thought of that?" With gleefully elegance, he hopped over the handrail, landing beside them. "_My turn soon_." He looked Letty up and down, assessing her worth. "Think I'll have need one of these? Hmmm, a leper for amusement? I suppose one _might_ come in useful."

Adam bedamned the day he first met this tormentor.

Through a haze of dreams and reality, Letty saw the smirking goblin that shattered her past and threatened to do the same to her present.

"Both of you can go to Hell!" She thrust herself free of Adam and ran.

The imp looked after her in mock disbelief. "Was it something _I_ said do you suppose?"


	20. Chapter 20

Thank you Jen for all your patient tolerance and staying power xxxxx

GHOST STORY 20

Sophie loved routine; routines to her meant that when surprises came, they burst on her life with the brilliance of fireworks.

Saturday routine was the best loved of all. Helping her mum with the housework, dancing silly dances to the radio, watching a much-loved film, feasting on best-liked food for tea. A bath, hot chocolate and a bedtime story. And maybe, just maybe, a surprise.

Perfect day for a girl of nearly five.

* * *

><p>Letty was trying her hardest to stay focused on the present. Sophie needed her, not a long dead fantasy. She forced herself to stick to the normal.<p>

Saturday was normal, real life, Sophie's life.

'Every little thing she does is ma-gic, every little thing just turns me o-n…'

The song rang out from the radio; Letty grinned at her daughter's spinning dance and pushed the Hoover back and forth in time with the music, singing at the top of her voice. 'Even though my love for her is tra-gic…'Mother and child sang the old favourite, and Letty, forgetting the bad stuff, lost herself in her child's joy.

The song ended; breathlessly Sophie threw herself on the old battered couch.

'I thought love was only true in fai-ry tales…'

One song morphed into the next on the station's playlist.

'True for someone else but not for m-e…' Sophie was up again, resuming her dance, joining in with the song from a favourite DVD.

'Love was out to get me…that was how it seem-ed…'

Letty knew the words, played them over in her head.

'Disappointment haunted all my drea-ms…'

The breath caught in her chest. 'Then I saw her face…Now I'm a believer, not a trace…of doubt in my mi-nd…'

Who the Hell was she kidding? She wanted Adam Bourne, whoever…_Damn it,_ _whatever_ _he was_! The truth twisted painfully in her gut, vivid, real pain. A pain that made the craving of him worse.

But she could never see him again, for her daughter's safety; she could not allow him in their lives. There was no hope to hang onto, no future with Adam, nothing.

Letty dropped to the couch, tears silently flowing. A small perfect head nestled under her chin as her baby settled on her lap seeking to give and receive comfort.

"You OK mummy?"

"Mmm?" She held her child close. "Yes baby, just me being silly." Stroking the still fine baby hair, she sniffed back tears. What could make her misery worse?

'There is someone I'm longing to se-e. I hope that h-e turns out to b-e, someone to watch over me…'

Closing her eyes, the vague thought slipped through her mind that she should change the station. Instead, slowly her focus drifted away…

* * *

><p><em>She walked in a gently sloping field, all around pale gold barley rustled in a soft west wind. Above, a bright, watchful sun shimmered. And Adam was beside her. They moved with confidence, their destination unspoken, but known.<em>

_Above, Larks swooped and curled, joyfully soaring in endless skies, summers songs filling crystal air._

_They reached a small coppice, ancient gnarled stumps sprouted tall, whip like branches. Large tumbled stones held the centre. Resolutely marking a place in time _

_Adam turned and drew her to him. A wide, capable soldier's hand cupped the back of her head; the other spanned her back, holding her to him. The kiss was aching and delicate, noses brushing gently. He pulled back. Eyes soft with hope, searched hers for doubt. _

_She wanted so much to let go, to allow the remembrances of that life…_

* * *

><p>What snapped Letty's mind back to the present, she wasn't sure, but the room was suddenly so cold. Outside, the mid afternoon sun had been sharp and clear. Now light seemed drained from the room and the day.<p>

Sophie snuggled closer. A small whimper escaped as she thrust her thumb firmly in her mouth.

Letty's uneasiness grew. The radio played on, the songs now absurd in the hateful gloom. 'Just haven't met yo-u yet…' From the corner of her eye she saw, or thought she saw… a mist, something, a figure… or was that just the tears?

A creaking snigger told her it was not.

_'Lepers…'_

The full force of his loathing washed over her, lapped at her child. The secure home she had made, that warm safe haven for her and her daughter, was being violated. About them, poison floated in the very air.

With an odd certainty, she knew they must go where she and Adam had never been together, knew that the evil could not pursue them there.

Abruptly wiping her face with the back of her hand, shifting Sophie closer, she forced cheerfulness into her voice. "So, how about we go and stay with Grandma and Pops for a while. Sort of holiday?"

"Can big Sarge come too?" Sophie whispered, fear leaching into her words.

"No hun, he can't."

"Why not? I like_ him_."

And she knew then, Sophie saw the shade too.

Kissing the top of the child's silken head, Letty desperately tried to think if they really needed to take anything with them.

"Because he's gone, So So. He's gone."


	21. Chapter 21

A Ghost Story 21

Alicia Locke stood at window of her drawing room and studied the rise and fall of the sculpted parkland that surrounded Locke Manor. Two villages and a hamlet had been 'removed' to achieve the uncluttered vista so prized by the discriminating eyes of her husband's predecessors. She sighed, turning away from the reminder that characterised such meaningless uses of power.

All she had ever wanted was a family, no money or power could give her that. All fate had allowed her was a grandson she loved, but most certainly was not proud of.

And now a great granddaughter as well, but thanks to Roberts duplicity, that relationship could easily be derailed before it began. The mother could simply refuse to include her in the access, walk away with the child.

Perhaps true power really lay with those who had the ability to walk away. The villagers had been forced to build new homes out of the offended sight of their 'betters'. But the coming of the railways meant those new villages prospered, even as the Locke fortunes plummeted. Overextended loans and bad investments left only the house and park intact. Not till her husband's time had the family retrieved a measure of its former glory.

And in the end what did the Lockes have to show for their pride and arrogance?

Robert, a child, and some money.

The sound of a high-powered car drew her attention to the wide tree lined drive.

How might the next generation of this worthy family turn out she wondered.

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"Well, of course it's a bit cold at the moment; but I'll get Thomas the gardener to have a look, he'll have it fixed and running in no time. If not, well we can get new stuff installed, Granny won't mind." Rob shrugged when Letty shivered and hugged herself.

"It's nice…but…" She looked about her; there were places where her meagre furnishings would actually look quite nice. It was cute, like it should be made of gingerbread. The 'Big House' was far enough away for her not to be able to see it. That suited her. Truthfully, one night at her mothers had convinced her that living there was out of the question.

Upstairs Sophie danced on the wooden floors, loving the noise she could make with no neighbours to disturb.

This was all too easy.

Rob lounged back in the doorframe, his head to one side, considering his next move. "Of course there are other ways to…" In the small space, it was simply a matter of leaning forward; he was close enough to slide an arm around her waist. Next, his mouth was nuzzling at her neck.

Letty sprang away, almost colliding with the newel post. _"Don't_…you know that's not part of the deal!"She wiped at her throat.

"Oh, come on princess, you know I'm sorry about all the other stuff. " He complained, flicking a glance at the stairs. "And she is…" He chuckled and shook his head. "Everything I could wish for." He actually managed to make it sound almost sincere. Used that soft contrived voice, sigh in just the right place. "What would be so awful about us…" He moved to hold her again. "Being…like a family…"

"There is no 'us' Rob." She grabbed her bag from the stairs. "Soso, come down now, we're going for tea," she called.

"OK, OK. I'll back off." He swore softly as Sophie trotted down the stairs. "I'm sorry, Let, don't…"

"Oh, don't panic, we'll move in. It's perfect." Letty felt the anger at his fumbled pass lower to a simmer. She was in control. "_But you_, you only come here when invited. You see Sophie only when I'm here." Taking her daughter's hand she turned to the door. "And you_ never_ try that again."

'_And you never try that again! _What, are you a whipped cur that she speaks to you so?' The snide voice hissed at Rob. He slapped at his ear as if a fly buzzed there.

"What was that?" Letty froze.

"Oh, nothing, the plumbing's a bit noisy."

Shaking off the familiarly unpleasant feeling, Letty led the way up to Locke Manor for tea.

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"Well boy, want to stay there and freeze 'till they add your bones to that dung heap as well?"

Bridles jangled as horses grew restless, their breath clouding in the cold air.

The young man was dry eyed as he stood by the grave. His head pounded from the excess of wine he had consumed steadily since his wife's death. The passing of the child had almost gone un-noted, so befuddled had he kept his brain.

Now he had squandered even the home she had given him. Lost it in a game of Pitch and Toss, lost it to the man now beside him. The man who had promptly negotiated the sale of the house and lands, the rest of the debts could be settled he said, in service to him.

The young man's heart had been drained for the second time in his life. He had been deceived, happiness was a great lie. _She_ had deceived him with her sweetness, her love, her bravery.

All was a lie.

His little brown bird was gone, their child was gone, their home was gone. His heart was gone with them.

With a clumsy, jerking leap, he mounted the fussing stallion, wheeling it about; he spoke one word to his sneering companion. "London?"

"Aye, London." The older man laughed. "London…_and power!"_

Mounts were turned directed to the road bound south.

Without a backward glance, the two men rode into legend.

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Every muscle burned, ached, and sang.

Sweat cooled on his skin as his lungs eased breathing to normal. Around him a small group of men dragged in air, groaned, joked, and rubbed at painful joints.

"Right, ladies, good to see you're all so…" The Colour Sergeant's tone was low, but carried years of authority. "Fit…" he sniffed. "But that, girls, was only five miles. By next week it'll be fifteen…fully loaded." He raised an eyebrow at the mumbles and moans. "For now…get your sorry arses back to those nice hot showers and lonely beds."

They didn't need telling twice, with calls of 'goin' now Colour!' they jogged away back to the welcoming lights of the Centre's billets.

"Bourne, a word if you please." Colour Sergeant Little frowned, he was not happy to have this duty fallen to him, but the man needed to be told. Adam Bourne had been in the first squad he'd led as a lance corporal, the man had been a green kid then.

Adam moved forward warily. "The exercise was telling, but not disappointing."

Colour Little scanned the heath they had just run across; it was even, not a difficult terrain. "You stumbled a couple of times out there. Balance or bad boots?" The senior man was searching for the words that would not offend or wound. They weren't there.

"I am out of practice, my enforced inactivity has…"

"Oh, I can tell you, its balance. I can see it as you walk. Not serious..." He spread his hands expansively. "…out there in civi world, no real problem."

"But on active service?" Adam heard the implication of the senior NCO's words.

"Not a chance. Two days I watched, waited to see it right its self. It did not happen." He sighed; telling a man he was out was never easy. "Loss of even one percent of your peripheral vision hinders your depth perception, spatial awareness. You know as well as I do, where you'd be going that spells 'dead man', whether you like it or not."

Adam snarled, "So I'm out of the service, retired?" He stood straighter, pride and anger vying for control

"There are other options. Man with your talents, knowledge. The private sector always…"

"A man without an honourable master…" Adam looked into the distant darkness.

"Honour is in your soul man, not the organisation you work for." The faint Scots accent rang with pride.

Breathing deep, Adam considered the freedom of owing allegiance to no man but himself. Was it possible?

"You were eighteen when you joined, nowhere else to go then. What about now, maybe it's time to change?" The older man rubbed chilled hands, shook his head. "For what it's worth, their making old buzzards like me redundant." He chuckled. "_Redundant,_ that hurts! Nothing sadder than a useless old soldier laddie."

The Adam of the bone and sinew was lost. The Adam of the mind and soul coolly considered his liberty.


	22. Chapter 22

Much thanks to Jen as ever xxxxx  
>A Ghost Story 22<p>

He liked this room, it emanated entitlement.  
>The bed was large, the hangings were of blood red damask, each corner post was topped with feathered plumes dyed a similar hue. The wood work edged gilt on ebony.<br>_That was a real bed. _  
>It stood opposite the great bay windows that graced the back of the house. He had decided that this view would be his. Not for its scenic beauty or the sight of the magnificence circle of mighty oaks that held the eye; no, this room was the biggest and the most well-appointed, luxuriously equipped. A man who slept here was master.<br>And he would once more be 'The Master', his new empire could, nay, _would _be run from this room.  
>It suited him well.<br>The old woman may have to go of course. Not that it was a problem having her around, but he wanted no unnecessary complications. Though the 'love' of her grandson meant her manipulation could be easily be achieved. The stupidity of that emotion showed itself in the way she gave into his juvenile behaviour, arbitrarily forgave his indiscretions.  
><em>Hmm, she could yet be useful.<em>  
>The child and its mother, they were a threat not so simply dealt with, bringing with them, as they did, his former servant. Causing their deaths would seem a sensible resolution, but their awareness of him was troublesome. They were watchful, gulling them would be a complex matter. No mere sleight of hand would suffice.<br>He pondered his selection of stratagems, humming quietly to himself. 

The certainty of his actions lifted Adam's stride. There had been times in the past when he misplaced his confidence in the power of others, self-righteousness, hatred, even fear had directed him, given him an entirely misplaced assurance. His judgement had then floundered on his lack of true purpose. But this was different, only once before had he felt so completely at one with his conscience, and that had led to his death.  
>This was his true rebirth. His new life, not borrowed or assumed, had begun today. The man whose body he had appropriated was no longer manifest as an inner voice. The knowledge and experience of that 'self' now all formed part of the newly configured person that was Adam Bourne.<br>Who was whole and conscious of his purpose, to find his love, reclaim her and give her the life she should have. To fulfil his affections needs; to rebuild what had been perverted and destroyed by that miserable worm, his former master.  
>The fortune he was now possessed of was not considerable as far as he could calculate, but then he was no pauper either. It seemed that Sergeant Bourne was not an impecunious man. He owned title to a goodly house of no mean cost, and now released from service to the Crown, he had monies owed. He would, of course, find an occupation that suited his abilities and taste. A man needs must employ himself fruitfully, but it would not be for his supper he toiled.<br>Slowing as he approached the huge glass and chrome doors of the hospital, a smile quirked at his lips. First he would attend to his heart's ease. To that end he must find his beloved little bird. He would waste no more time on courteousness, they had waited too long for gallantry and propriety to have meaning. Time was a precious commodity; he would not fritter it away.  
>They must come together again as man and wife; re-forge their loving alliance against the pestering troll. Then find means to banish him forever from their world.<p>

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Letty shrugged off the white coat and tossed it in the scrubs bin. She was gearing up to talk to Rob, there were arrangements to be made for his and his grandmothers access visits with Sophie. Handling Rob was not really the issue she had assumed it would be. Gone was the silly, impressionable girl he'd lied to and deserted.  
>Not that she was that entirely sure if she was Letty or Arlette most of the time.<br>Memories of her other life slipped between her own like simple passing impressions. Strangely familiar recipes, snatches of songs, images of places, all found curiously comfortable homes in her understanding. Gradually all mismatched feelings were falling into their proper places. She was beginning to understand that sad history.

_"Your boy tries his cock in other cunny tonight, mistress."  
>She could feel him to close behind her. A shudder caught her spine.<br>The gravel chuckle dripped derision. "He bid me…keep to your comfort while he is... otherwise occupied."_

Standing in the busy hospital corridor Letty could almost feel his hot breath at her cheek. The words hung about her brain, clear and menacing, the thought that this creature would touch her. And the man she believed loved her had left her in the care of the odious, creeping serpent. Oh, that knowledge left her desolate.  
>But that evil was dead, now nothing but a stinking shadow.<br>Except the fear was still there, the repulsive thought of his greedy hands on her.  
>That could still make her shrink in disgust, make the panic rise in her, fill her with dread.<p>

"You OK cariad? You're ever so pale lookin'." Sue put her hand on her friends arm as she spoke. Letty jumped at the touch. "Jesus girl, you're bloody scarin' me here."  
>Letty jerked back to the now, a fleeting look of uncertainty in her eyes, but she covered the anxiety with a laugh. "Sorry, I was miles away."<br>"They bin pagin' you for the last twenty minutes. You gal, have a visitor." Sue did a very unsubtle wink and grinned at her friend. "He's in the second floor staff lounge."  
>"Oh, bloody, shitting hell!"<br>"You are tryin' me somat awful. What's the problem now?" Sue had Letty cornered; she wanted an explanation.  
>"It's too complicated." Letty sounded like a truculent teenager. "I can't deal with my finals, him, Rob, <em>the move<em>!" She threw up her hands in exasperation, she wanted Sue to understand, but had no idea how to explain. "He wants…too much."  
><em>"You done it, you bloody slept with 'im!"<em> Senior staff nurse Sue did a fairly discrete little happy dance.  
>"If we'd <em>slept<em> there wouldn't be a problem."  
>"Oh, hello there…" Sue looked up over Letty's shoulder.<br>"I grew impatient. My apologies ladies."  
>Letty spun around at the low, warm tone and polite words.<br>Adam stood towering over them, a smile in his eyes that curved at his lips.

Neither of them was conscious of Sue's departure.  
>Hungry eyes met and would not part. Nothing that surrounded them existed, just the hunger.<br>Without consideration of the passing world, he cupped her cheek in his broad hand, thumb caressing the fullness.  
>Reason fled and Letty kissed the heel of his palm that rested by her lips.<br>"I burned for your touch… Bore the irksome parting solely with thoughts of this moment." He laughed softly.  
>Letty drew her head back, forcing herself into reality. But Adam had other ideas; he drew her up and kissed her gently about the eyes, her cheeks, her lips. The soft, tracing of contours he had conjured in dreams.<br>"Come with me, we'll find somewhere…" He looked about them and breathed tenderly, "...private."


	23. Chapter 23

A Ghost Story 23A

Much as her body ached for the cure that Adam offered, it was pointless. There was just too much past to deal with.  
>And definitely not in a busy hospital corridor.<br>Kissing his hand had been dumb, dumb, and bloody dumb. People that knew her walked passed, giving her fleeting smiles and meaningful nods.  
><em>Damn Sue!<em>

Trying to cause as little fuss as possible, she pulled her top straight, re-hitched the bag at her shoulder, looked everywhere but at him. "I'm sorry, I have things to do. Maybe we could have dinner sometime…" Glancing up she saw the meaning in his raised brow. _"…or something?"_

He looked down at her, widening his eyes in teasing disbelief. "Just a quiet, private place. Somewhere we might speak of our future." His gaze lingered at her mouth.  
>He wanted to kiss that mouth, tug fullness into…<p>

Letty tried to stay objective, practical, focused. She'd had a bellyful of the spying, sniggering troll, the stupidly enigmatic dreams…Thoughts of Adam in her bed…Oh, but she needed more of Sergeant Bourne.  
><em>No…no…she absolutely did not!<em>  
>The dull celibate life was safe. And she wanted it back. She did. She really,<em> really did.<em>  
>Letty stepped into the small knot of people waiting at the lifts, and turned her back on him. The queue moved forward and he was tight behind her.<br>Once inside it was worse. Adam stood in front of her, closing her into a corner, neatly blocking her exit. His back seemed huge; she could remember the warm smooth feel of the taut muscles there.  
><em>Christ, no.<em> She snapped that part of her brain shut.  
>The doors opened. People stepped out, more stepped in.<br>Letty stayed trapped.  
>Then somehow he was behind her. <em>"Shit." <em>She missed his movement. Missed her floor.  
>The doors hissed closed.<p>

Adam bit back a smile and looked about him. The other passengers were clipped into their own worlds, and besides they held no interest for him.  
>Ah, but Letty's exposed neck did demand his attention. Hair, once tidily pinned, now spilled in small curls about her ears and nape. The fleshy curve enticed him; the urge to lick, to bite, feel her delicate shudder almost over took him. He sucked in a waft of her body's scent. <em>By Christ, this woman was as necessary as his very blood.<em>

Letty flinched.  
>Had he sniffed her?<br>Irritated, she rolled her shoulders, tried to shift away, but with little effect. His broad hand came to rest on her hip. She twisted discreetly out of his hold.  
>Looking up she saw the doors opening. She wanted to believe the distraction of his hand made her miss her escape, but she knew that to be a lie. As the door closed again the hand was back, sliding under her top, fingertips trailed over soft heat of her skin. Letty sucked in air, bit her lip.<br>Adam coughed and pulled her deftly onto him, then flexed his hips in an unsubtle grind.  
>With effort she pushed herself away again.<br>The lift went up another floor, doors opened onto an empty corridor, the last of the other passengers got out, and they were alone.  
>"This has got to stop. It's just too…" She hissed, then heard a metallic scrape and looked up in time to see him forcing open the control panel with a sturdy, lethal looking pen knife. <em>"What the hell are you doing?" <em>Panicking, she stepped quickly to the slowly closing doors, but found herself grabbed about the waist and swung into the body of the lift._ "Let me go…"_ Gasping for air, she snatched and wriggling to get free.  
>He held on, his powerful form had no problem holding her. He gave a grunt of effort; there was a clunk, followed by clicking noises.<br>An alarm sounded, a voice asked politely if anyone was in the lift.  
>Adam's large hand covered her mouth as she was about to answer. He tutted reproachfully at her ear, then breathed a soft, "Hush…"<br>"Number two's out again." The exasperated security officer complained. "Soddin' electrics…" A loud click, then silence. The intercom switched off.  
>In temper Letty kicked at Adam's shin. Swearing a very un-medieval oath he let her go.<br>"They'll be up soon. I can't imagine what you think you're doing." Her attempt at 'disdainful' just amused him more.  
>"This machine was out of commission for three weeks the last time it failed." The grin was so smug. "A soldier of our Lady Queen needs must be fluent in the subtleties of electronics." He dusted off his hands, as after a job well done. "Have you have forgotten my wandering inquiries as I recovered?" He shrugged. "I know for instance that the security camera in this and two other cars are in fact shams, counterfeit, nothing but mere boxes with flashing lights."<p>

With a quiet laugh he pulled her to him, nuzzled her throat. Reaching her ear lobe he bit gently. She didn't fight him, just hung in his arms and looked bleakly at the control box; a neat oblong of tiny electrical connections, their functions impenetrable to her. Adam had disconnected the two small relevant contacts like a pro. But then he was a pro, at least the Sarge was. But the hands that touched so knowingly, that held her, stroked her? Oh, they belonged to another man, far less merciful.

Adam wondered at the ease he found with her. For so long he believed all hope was lost, and now she was his once more. The longing, begging ache of his skin for hers, the pain of it, so unquestionable in its source, was soothed only by her gasps of delight and soft sighs, the flutter of her breath at his throat. She was the physick his body craved, _and he would never be done with her._

Letty twisted away again, she wanted to be angry, but her body responded the instant he looked at her. "OK, you want to talk, so talk." She tried to look as if she had some place to be that he was keeping her from, but failed. "And no more 'touchy feely' stuff."

He laughed and leaned back against the mirrored wall, arms folded. With a self-satisfied smile, he tapped pensively at his lips. "You tempt me to caresses…and I enjoy the sport." The look he gave her was a challenge.  
>"Well I don't enjoy it!"<br>"_Liar."_ The whisper was a velvet breath.  
>Exasperated, she launched herself at the control box with a vague idea she could reconnect it. But Adam trapped her in his arms again, told her sternly, "'Tis dangerous. The connection is live, it would sear your heart." Holding her back against his chest, he turned to face the reflective surface of the walls. They looked at each other. "<em>And your heart is mine alone to sear."<em>

Letty hated it when he said these things. Hated it, but closed her eyes and let him hold her tight, feeling curiously secure in his arms.  
>Then his mouth found the pulse beneath her ear.<br>"_Bastard,"_ she groaned.  
>"My little trembling bird."<br>"This can't work."  
>"All is just practicalities," his warm breath whispered over her ear, lifting a curl. "Take me again as your husband…not just your lover."<br>_"No…"_ It was all too easy to let him kiss her, touch her, murmur gently loving words, but her starving heart and body needed more of him.  
>Adam felt the yielding; he knew he should speak more of marriage, the wonder of finding each other. But in reality all he wanted was to savour her, feel her. With artful fingers he flicked the tiny buttons of her top till it fell open.<br>Letty watched the mirror image, fascinated. Her eyes met his seemingly impassive gaze.

Impassive was not how he felt, he needed access to her skin. It was vital he caress her, touch the hardened nipples he knew begged for the slide of his tongue. _Oh, to watch her face as he tortured her thus._  
>In the back of her brain a little voice muttered logical reasons to refuse him, push him away, tell him to go to Hell. But instead she held tight to the handrail and shivered as he cupped and crushed her lace covered breast…<p>

He liked the feel of the crisp white fabric against the soft swelling weight of her. The tips of his fingers tightly nipped the fleshy bud beneath. He knew it would bring her close to pain, knew she would want him more.  
>Letty gasped and leaned back, rubbing her head against his chest like a cat. Adam's breathing was tight, his movements precisely done, calculating the agonies of their pleasure. With loving stealth his hand slipped beneath her skirt, skimmed her belly, and found her body willing.<br>"_Oh, God…yes." _She ground forward onto him and reached behind, her palm pressing, slipping around the thick, hard bulge of his cock.

"Give me what I give you, _touch my flesh." _It was a greedy snarl. He tightened his grip upon her, watched as she sucked in her lower lip, cupped his balls, and squeezed.  
>He hissed his pleasure.<br>Reason was gone, all thoughts of the rights, wrongs, the evil serpent that haunted them, all was gone. Only wanting ruled them.  
>He buried his face at her throat, breathing her in, absorbing her. His clever fingertip gliding and teasing, scouring her nerves. She was there; the aching swell of her clit was almost intolerable. Stifling a moan of glorious pain, she came.<br>Adam withdrew his hand and smirked in triumph. He fumbled with his belt. "Lean forward."  
>Her head slumped against his chest; Letty glanced up at their reflection.<br>A grey mist swirled and heaved high in the corner, its evil presence unmistakeable.  
><em>"No…oh, please...He is come…," <em>she whimpered.  
>"Let him." Adam dragged his mouth to her earlobe, bit softly. "I care not. 'T was ever his way to watch what he could not accomplish." The words were rashly said, he wanted his cock buried deep in her, wanted the crashing delight possessing her would gain him.<br>But the sneering words brought Letty to a cold, cold place.  
><em>"He watched you?"<em>  
>" 'T was his pleasure." Adam gave a petulant shrug, still intent on his own satisfaction. He nipped at a lobe.<br>_"You performed for him?"_ Letty stared at her lover's reflection. _"He-watched-us?"_He did not feel her horror; his body still simply craved hers. "No, no…" Too late his realised he was losing her. "By then his vices had him impotent." He hoped a soft kiss to her neck would divert her. "He sought other ways to rouse himself."  
>Letty groaned at this new betrayal. She would no longer meet his eyes. Her mind spun away from the now.<br>The simpering vapour slithered above them.  
>Adam saw the pain, her disgust. "Look at me!" He held her, forced her to look at their reflections. "What do you see?"<br>She twisted from him. "No!"  
>He cupped her chin and turned her head to see him. "What do you see?"<p>

Tears smeared her cheeks, and Arlette spoke soft. "I see the husband who gave me to another."  
>He released her, stepped back. <em>"No, what is this?"<em>  
>A retching sob burst from her. "He came, told me you whored in the town." Curling her arms about herself she retreated further. "Said you gave him leave to take his ease with me."<br>_"I did not, I would never…What would make you say such a thing?" _He flew back in indignation, shocked out of his bodily need, righting his clothes.

"The beast came, told me so." Leaning her forehead against the cool mirrored surface. "You called me a silly child when I told you my distrust of him, told me he was our friend; he had influence, consorted with the powerful. He could help your family back to its rightful place." She sighed, drained.

"I was a fool, but I sent him not, neither did I wench. Why should I when my heart's desire waited at home to share my bed?"  
>She believed him; his bemused look told her it was no lie.<br>"He came to me, told me I must allow him favours."  
>The night was once more real to her. Letty could smell his stinking, wine laden breath; feel the slide of his coarse stubby fingers.<p>

Adam was pacing, grim faced. Rage pulsing in his gut, he tipped his head to glare at the dark cloud that moved above them. _"He-lied."_ Suddenly swinging toward her, he grabbed her shoulders. _"Believe me, I never did that…Never!"_  
>She was suspended there, fixed in her misery. Words rolled from her. "You drew away after our child was born…It seemed to me my body filled you with disgust." Her eyes were closing now.<p>

"I was a scared boy. I knew nothing, I was afraid my hungers would injure you." His anger had become pain, pain that wrenched his soul. Feverishly he searched for reasons. "He counselled it took time for the birthing wounds to heal. I sought distractions in ale, in gaming…" He threw up his hands in frustration. _"Gaming, bets, stupid bets!"_ Before him now was his beloved Arlette, young, pale, and frightened. _"But I never, never…" _He could not bring himself to say the words.

"He came hissed his poison, whispered your…permission." The tears had turned to deep shuddering breaths. "He forced him…self on…me."  
>Adam stepped back, his broad hand covering his mouth, eyes wide, shaking his head. <em>"Tell me not…"<em>  
>"In our hall, our babe asleep in her cradle at my feet." Abruptly she sank to the floor, hugged her knees, her voice almost calm. "After, I ran into the woods, hid lest he follow."<br>Her stillness frightened him more.  
>"I stayed all night. The weather was foul, but no fouler than he."<br>"The fever, the chills you took…'T was then?"  
>"Aye," she wiped at her face. "I sickened…died."<br>_"He killed you, took you from me?"_  
>Above them the mist darkened, boiled, and seethed, a hissing, sniggering sound grew, its spiteful laughter echoing about them.<p> 


	24. Chapter 24

A Ghost Story 24

He found he knew love, knew now its fragile measure: trust. Now he must face how his imprudent boy's heart had forfeited that trust.

Adam slipped to the floor, drew Letty's softly shuddering body to him, and held her safe. Past sins flooded him, their deluge threatened to overwhelm, but the love he held for Arlette had never been touched by them.

He stroked her hair, laid his lips gently on her brow, and closed his eyes.

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A rapturous delight filled the blackened heart of the Shade. Watching the tiresome leper's descent from bliss to misery. Oh, it had been so…_exhilarating! _ Knowing the power of his past actions could still be the source of such a collapse gave him no pause, but rather it impelled him forward.

Strange that he still felt the pull of his lust for the boy, for he knew it to be his weakness.

It was curious that the long limbed youth had captured his interest at all; usually his taste had fallen to beardless boys, easily tutored to his needs. Perhaps it was the very unavailability that made his suffering so piquant, so enduring.

Freeing the youth of his entanglements had been simple. He had thought to hold the husband through the wife_, _butshe was too astute_. _Her influence needed to be broken. The rape was intended to subdue her; that she died of her stupidity was a great convenience. Finishing the child thereafter was no more than a forceful hand across the mewling brat's mouth.

The boy lost his wife, his child, and then his fortune, and all to the man he called 'friend'. Even now the success made him smile. So complete, so fulfilling.

From a gangling, mournful youth, to a beauteous lusty man, the master had watched the servant, chided and hungered after him. For the body had never been his, not truly. Oh, he had commanded his protégé by manipulation and stealth. He whispered lies, dangled petty rewards, promised glory tomorrow, but the object of his desire had stayed steadfastly a lover of women. And, whether he liked it or no, the Shade's own desire grew.

He had haunted the darkened corners in agonies of exquisite jealousy, watched the glorious pale flesh he longed to squeeze, lick, and bite. Aye, watch as it pounded a hundred stinking leper cunts. Once he had stayed hidden till the whore and flawed Adonis slept, then stood close, sly fingers hovering above his love's compelling skin. The scorching pain was deep, he never repeated the act.

Careful caresses shunned, his affection turned to a parody of paternal concern. It occurred to him that in life they had been like father and son: deeply disappointed in one another.

There had always been a dangerous morality lurking in his deputy's attitude to his duties. A misplaced sense of personal honour that grated at his master's nerves.

And now, now he would have his revenge on the object of his rejected passion.

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The ringing of Letty's phone jarred Adam back to at the present. He fumbled with the annoying device, clumsily stabbing at the screen. The ringing stopped and he leaned back, tipping his head, staring at the ceiling.

He had to get Letty and the child somewhere safe.

The phone chimed out as a message was delivered. This time his hand was sure, fingers agile.

He read the text. _'Letty, where are you cariad? I want to know every little detail!'_

His note back was urgent. _'Meet us at the main lifts, ground floor. We need your help.' _

The lift doors opened to a busy foyer, no one particularly noticed Adam, his arm around the drooping Letty. No one but senior staff nurse Susanne Lewis. Professional that she was, she slipped her arm around Letty's unsupported side and guided them down to the car park.

"OK, I'm not going to ask what happened…_yet."_ She glowered at Adam. "I'll take you to the flat, then go and collect Sophie and take her to her Nan's for the night."

"I think we should keep…"

"_She goes to her Nan._ That's final. At this moment what you think is of no interest to me!"

Adam felt his clumsiness in the situation keenly, so he obeyed the orders he was given. Once at the flat he gently laid Letty on her bed, removed her shoes, covered her. Now he could do nothing but watch. Rest would not be his. How could it? He had caused this. He had taken all and given nothing but pain, and in the process robbed himself of a life that should have been. Now the course was repeated, all he loved would be taken and dashed within his sight.

_By God's blood, it would not!_

He stood in the doorway of Letty's room and watched her sleep.

What had he wanted from that old life? The loving comfort of a home, a family? To grow old in peace with his love?

_No_, he had wanted money, lands, and influence, the power they brought. To what end he did not know, had he wanted to rule all?

No, that was foolishness. None could or _should_ have such supremacy.

Had it been glory at arms he desired? He was a soldier, now as then. Was that his goal?

Perhaps, he wanted to protect the deserving, to defend those he loved and honoured, to see them safe.

_Those he honoured?_

Ha!

To begin with, he had honoured his friend, trusted his counsel. The older man had experience of the world that he himself lacked. The advice appeared sound, not always Christian or Knightly, but more pragmatic, politic. So he had listened as young men did to the stirring tales of self-proclaimed old warriors.

But it was not as it seemed.

All were corrupt: _Steal __before another stole from you. Lie if the truth is inconvenient. Take what you want, none will give freely, all has a price._ His malicious tutor's dictums rolled about his mind and he knew them now for the half truths they were. Corruptions of honest philosophies, ideas taken and perverted to suit a heart black to the core.

At first, the pawing affection had merely irritated, gradually he had understood the meaning in his mentor's sly words and looks. They left him cold. The man's very touch was reptilian, and the lustful use of young pages was not at all to his own taste. In truth, it disgusted him, but then had _he_ not become this man's creature himself?

He was trapped in his surrender to fate. Tragedy and time had shown him the deceitful nature and foulness of the man he had thrown in with until venality became a way of life. He had believed this was the life mapped for him, and grew lazy in morals, lax in honour.

Yet now here he stood in his fresh incarnation, knowing his failures, all too aware of his betrayals, watching the players re-enact their parts.

_It could not be. _

Now he must prove himself. Not for his own self-worth, but he must fight for those he loved. He might lose this new life, lose it and yet save Letty and Sophie from whatever his previous master had planned?

He straightened, stood legs apart, arms crossed, jaw tight.

_Enough of disputation and reasoning, this time I fight. _

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	25. Chapter 25

A Ghost Story 25

There are days when every thought is insightful, every ambition achievable.

Days when _everything_ is clear.

For Alicia Locke today was that day.

The heart specialist she had reluctantly consulted was sympathetic, but there was no expectation of recovery. Surgery _was_ possible, but it treacherously offered hope of nothing more than a few months, while actually risking what life she had left on the operating table.

The inevitability of death focused her mind on the dilemma of the Locke inheritance. Robert was never going to shoulder those responsibilities. Like his grandfather before him, the family was second to his own personal needs and ambitions. It always would be. To him the family name opened the right doors, nothing more. The land was merely an asset that could be liquefied if necessary.

The very thought made her shudder.

There was, as far as she could see, only one answer.

His child Sophie would, of necessity, become her heir.

Of course the estate would continue be administered by Travers and Beck, they had been the family solicitors for years, she trusted them implicitly.

She would considerably enhance Robert's trust fund, that should satisfy him, but she would bequeath Locke House and its lands to her great-granddaughter. The mother could not refuse a dying woman's last request surely? Dr. Letty Warren appeared to be devoted to her child, as well as a committed professional, she would be a fool not to secure her daughter's future.

"Travers, I wish to make the changes to my will that we talked about. How long would that take?" Alicia spoke to her solicitor as she always did, clipped, direct.

A few minutes later she replaced the receiver and sighed. The team of lawyers and accountants would have the amendments to her will in place in a day. Now all she needed to do was to inform Robert and Letty Warren of the resolution to her dilemma. Neither would take it lightly, but she was not a woman who cared overmuch for the petty insecurities of others.

It would be done, and Travers would ensure that it could not be undone.

She picked up the receiver again.

"Robert, I would like you to bring Dr. Warren to dinner tonight. There is something you both need to hear."

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Letty was curled on her battered sofa. She had tried to read, watch TV, sleep, anything but talk to Adam. It had been three days since the memories of the attack and rape of Arlette had crashed through Letty's brain. The truth of the assault, of its brutality. The terror and disgust still left her nauseous, and even Adam's tender, but very male presence caused her discomfort. She couldn't look at him, froze if he touched her.

Her logically trained mind told her_ he_ hadn't known the plans of his trollish mentor. He hadn't given his gentle young wife for the beast to do as he pleased, but he had left her exposed, unprotected. A foolish boy who trusted where he should not, and Arlette paid the price.

Simple.

Letty shuddered at the thought of the spiteful fingers on her skin. But it was not her, it was Arlette who had endured, whose body had been bruised and torn, not her's. The Adam who guarded her now was not the easily manipulated, adolescent boy of then. But still she rejected him, blamed him. Unreasonable as it was, she couldn't help it.

And she missed Sophie.

She resented Sue's practical good sense. Letty wanted routine again, she wanted Adam to disappear, wanted the disturbing memories of that sad life to disappear with him. She needed the quiet organised existence of Sophie, work, and study.

Adam alternated between desolation and anger. He had no idea how to help her, he could not heal the wounds with soft words or kisses. Promises of love and protection brought him contemptuous looks and silence that speared his heart. But he knew well how old anger seethed deep.

The phone rang, Adam answered it automatically.

"She is…un-well, I'll tell her you called." He moved to cut the call short, but she snatched the receiver from him.

"Don't you dare!" She glared at him. "Hello?"

"Who's the Neanderthal?" Rob did not sound pleased.

"None of your business," she snapped. "What do you want Rob?"

"Grams wants to see us as soon as possible. She says it's important." He paused. "I don't like a guy being there, is that the soldier boy?"

The sneer in his voice was galling.

"But I thought the cottage was settled?" She ignored his question.

"It is. She's old Let, who knows what she's thinking? We just need to humour her. Ditch the corporal and I'll come and get you now."

She sighed. Part of her wanted to tell him Adam was a sergeant, another wanted to tell him to fuck off. "Give me half an hour." She hung up.

"You can't go anywhere, you are…"

"I'm what, incapable, stupid?" Anger was good, she felt the power of it rise in her, pushing the fears aside. "Rob is taking me to see his grandmother about the cottage." She was up and striding to the bathroom. He caught her arm to pull her back to him. Shrugging him off she hissed, "Don't touch me. I am not a child, not a possession. I'm a bloody doctor for Christ sake!" She slammed the bathroom door on him.

Adam wanted to smash something, break something.

Instead he clenched his fists and roared at God.

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The curious fascination these people had with machines baffled the Shade. He watched the sensual pleasure with which his future self stroked the smoothed, curved bodywork of the car.

His greed for new life ate at him. Soon that body would be his, he would touch and feel again. Would he gain his pleasures thus?

He believed not. Men ruled by their passions, their bellies, their cocks were his inferiors. The carnal pleasures as momentary diversions were agreeable, but as a goal? Had not his own life been marred by his imprudent hunger for the man he now sought to destroy?

Ah, but power, there was a true and delightful lover, the elegant beauty of the subtle manoeuvring, the ability to control the will and actions of others was like nectar, and was reward in itself.

Rob adjusted his position and stroked the steering wheel. He smiled like a child with a longed for toy. This car said it all, classic style combined with basic hard muscle. What more could a man want?

The Shade chuckled…_You know so little, boy, so little_.

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Anger and fear had Adam pacing the flat.

Letty sat on the edge of the bath, ready to meet Rob, but reluctant to actually leave.

Blusher lifted the pallor of her cheeks, a little kohl and mascara hid the rawness about her eyes, a coppery dab of colour at her lips and she could pass for…normal?

All she needed to do was smile and be pleasant to her new landlady. Smile and move on, forget the awfulness of Arlette's sadness.

But how could she forget with Adam there, how could she forget Adam?

Opening the door, he was waiting outside. He looked so different now from the dying soldier she first met in the Brain Trauma Unit. The clothes he wore fitted his stronger, toned body. Biceps curved beneath the fabric, his chest was wide, firm. She looked up, his beautiful eyes were red rimmed and shadowed from lack of sleep. Her throat contracted as he looked down, away from her.

He knew what she was going to say.

"I'll get Rob to drop me at my parent's house, I'll collect Sophie." Her belly dipped and clenched. "I think you should go…"

"No." Just one word, an unequivocal, _'No'._

She hadn't considered he'd refuse.

"I failed you before but no more." Straightening his shoulders, he raised his head high, spoke clear and strong, "Your trust was lost to me, I must regain it. I will protect you, not leave your side…" He paused and looked up, resigned, "…till I am no longer needed."

"Adam, you have to go. I can't do this magical mystery thing anymore, I want my life back."

"I will take you to see this woman, to…"

"Listen to me. I said…"

But he was beyond care now. Big hands held her shoulders firmly. "You are the reason for my life, you brought me here. The love we have will hold true this time, I will not surrender it to panic." His voice was a gravelled anger.

"It's not that simple. It's too much, _just too much_."

"'Tis not a thing of philosophy, not a mathematical puzzle, _it is love!"_ His desperate sarcasm stung her. His grip tightened. "Tell me you do not love me?" The demand was lanced deep with pain.

"I…I don't…" but she could not say it. The memory of suffering and death, the dreaded foulness that caused it, she knew it all.

But knew too that she loved him, whoever he was, Adam Bourne or…

He tugged her protectively into his arms, held her there. "Would you have me beg?" His words were softly said.

Letty sighed, here was where she wanted to be, held and beloved. Just to love him without reservation, without doubt or blame, only to love, simply love.

The boy she had married bullied and bossed her at first, argued, told her she was a silly girl. Threw tantrums when she was right, crowed when she was wrong.

But there were moments when he would touch her hand, smile his foolish boy smile. And in their bed at night gradually he took pleasure in her delight. They learned together about their bodies. In the quiet aftermath of love, he spoke of his hopes that his sister, given into a marriage to a much older man, had found as such peace and promise as he.

The boy he was, the man he had become, she loved.

Reaching up she stroked his cheek. "Never…"

Then he was kissing her mouth, her eyelids. Soft, sweet grazes, coaxing reminders of his body's need.

She relaxed into him. She had thought never to want any man's touch again, but the acknowledgement of Arlette's life had closed the circle. Brought her to him once more.

Softly she bit at his jaw, ran her tongue over the stubble there, and felt the tremor of a quiet laugh.

"Oh, my sweet little brown bird…"

Their mouths met.

The urgent harshness of the security buzzer forced them apart.

Rob's voice came over the speaker. "Let, you ready?"

Breathless, a momentary confusion held them, then Letty pressed the answer button. "I'll be down in a moment." She rested her forehead at Adam's chest. "I have to go."

"I will take you." Proudly he grinned and stroked her hair. "I have mastered the driving of a car!"

But she smiled and shook her head. "Stay here, I won't be too long."

"Then I will come with you, stay near." Before she could do anything he had her car keys in his hand and was opening the door. "Now let me meet this foolish youth."

Relief couldn't truly explain the feeling that flooded her. Nothing was different, the foul troll still lurked somewhere, waiting cause more pain, but somehow she felt…better.

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As they stepped out of the main doors, she saw Rob lounging back against his sleek sports car. He glanced up, saw her and smiled. He saw Adam and, with the quirk of an eyebrow, the smile became a sneer.

"Looking good, babe, looking good." Rob's eyes flicked to Adam. "This must be your soldier…"

Adam bristled, but Letty was having none of it.

"This is Adam Bourne. Adam, this is Rob Locke."

The two men regarded each other stonily. Rob's practised good humour failed him. The other man was taller, broader. He looked like he could handle himself.

Just as Rob evaluated his rival, Adam swung Letty into his arms and was kissing her ruthlessly.

Letty pulled away. He was marking his territory and she didn't like it and hissed, "Enough, let me go."

"For now." Adam murmured.

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"Your driving hasn't changed, still too fast." Letty shifted uncomfortably in the bucket seat. She checked the mirror, Adam was a couple of cars behind them.

"This is a high performance machine. She needs to have her way with the road now and again." He accelerated to make his point.

"You are such a pratt." Not for the first time did she wonder what she had ever seen in him.

_Has he a big cock?_

"What?" Cold fear gripped her heart. They were not alone. "Rob, please slow down, these lanes are too narrow." She knew the poisonous fiend wanted them dead. But Rob was oblivious, the smug smile gone, the arrogant assurance changed to…

_"See, the boy just wants to go faster, isn't that charming. Like a child on a swing_," the Shade crudely mimicked a piping voice. _"Faster, higher!"_

Letty felt sick, but still choked out, "Rob, please…"

"Can't babe, can't…"

Suddenly Letty jerked forward, the seat belt snapped hard against her shoulder and belly, head jolting back, her neck cracking sickeningly, multicoloured lights burst in pin points behind her eyes. Blood flooded her mouth…then blackness.


	26. Chapter 26

A Ghost Story 26

Standing outside the entrance to the A & E department, Adam stared after the ambulance crew as it flew passed on its way to Resuscitation. The fleeting glimpse he caught of Letty caused him to shudder. She was pale, inert. She looked…Dear God there was no way he would allow _that_ thought in his head. Letty was injured, unconscious, but she lived.

A veil of foul air drifted about him, swirled through his soul. _"Soon old friend, soon I shall be with you. Oh, and what times we shall have_." The familiar evil form stood beside him, its features quivering in the air. _"Presently boy, presently."_ The hated voice cooed. Then the sound of sniggering pleasure grew fainter as the malicious presence trailed after its chance at life.

Every muscle of Adam's body was tight, he would not let despair weaken him nor fear sap his good sense. He had no medical knowledge or skill to aid her, perhaps his blood would suit? Other thoughts invaded his mind.

_Sophie._

Wallowing in his own distress he had overlooked the child. Dear God, had his selfish actions once more brought him to this, had his greed for his lost love created yet another orphan? When would this evil cease?

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Alicia Locke drove herself to the hospital. She could not wait for Arnold to fetch the car, help her in, and then drive sedately as if she were off to open the parish fete. Instead she took the keys to Cook's decrepit Fiesta, crunching the worn gears as she manoeuvred the battered vehicle out of its parking space. It had been years since she had driven herself anywhere, but this was not the time for the formality that usually ruled her life. Robert was in danger, some part of her sensed it was more than mortal. She had lost her son; _she would never be ready to lose her grandson._

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"She's steady. Shoulder's got a big ol' nasty bruise, not dislocated however. So continue with the drip, observe vitals." The Doctor shrugged, rubbed his nose thoughtfully. "Still unconscious, not sure I like that. Just keep me posted, O.K.?"

The curtains of the cubicle next to Letty's billowed as the medics moved about attaching monitors, cannulating, adjusting their access to Rob's broken body. Hehad fared much worse than Letty. The classic car had no air bag; the steering wheel had fractured his sternum, cracked four ribs, caused cardiac contusions, and possibly torn the aorta. Added to which, blood was seeping from the temporary dressings to the wounds on his face and neck.

_"I hope his looks will be unspoiled? I like the prettiness, I would have it!" _the Shade whispered petulantly into the ear of the nearest physician.

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Adam knew he was out of place; he was of no use here. Clumsy foreboding only increased his sense of helplessness. The memory of Sophie's instant and innocent trust at their first encounter wrung him. He could not countenance another betrayal in her young life, how could he, was not the denial of parenthood by her father enough? Careless hunger for the life he had squandered brought Letty and Sophie into danger they should never have been exposed to. Anger at what he had caused, at the Fates who played so negligent a game with those he loved, seethed through him.

"Sorry mate, not in here unless you're…"

"No." He pushed aside the porter who tried to stop him going further. "My wife, she is my wife…"

The man stood away. "O.K. But let them do their job. She's in good hands, trust me."

Adam looked back at the commotion surrounding Letty. _'Trust him, why?'_ Heart weary but mind frantic, he turned and left the healers to their work. An idea was taking hold and growing apace: _If the worthless slime whose mocking and conniving plots had led him here could be destroyed, then perchance the wrongs could be righted. _

Once more he took to the highest place he knew, there to plead and bargain for the lives of those he had so grievously wronged.

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The Shade watched Adam go, deriding his concern. _"Is the leper still with us? Oh, she will make me a goodly toy, do you not think?"_ Adam did not turn nor answer and the elemental's unfed goading turned to abuse. _"Let the leprous one die. What use have I for her weeping and seeping?"_ His scornful words smeared the air.

He turned his attention to the nurse tapping at Rob's vein. Pointing at the almost lifeless body. _"Why is he not dead? See, his heart falters even now." _The Shade paced angrily, what little forbearance he ever had was now exhausted. _"Leave him, 'tis his time you fools." _

Around him, all unconscious of his existence, the trauma team battled for Robert Locke's life.

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"My grandson, please is he here?" All her genteel imperiousness seemingly lost, Alicia Locke showed the world the frightened old woman she really was. "Robert Locke, his car…it crashed?"

"I'll see what I can find out." The kind faced lady at the desk took pity. It was a quiet night and sometimes it was good just to help.

"RTI, in resus now," the nurse told the receptionist softly. "Not looking too good. Is she next of kin?"

Alicia saw the exchange and her heart sank. She was no fool, the nurses remarks did not appear positive. Kneading her shoulder and stretching her neck at its discomfort, she fought to remain calm.

"Well, he should be going into go to surgery soon, are you…"

"I'm his grandmother. You'll need permission? Can I see him?" Control was leaching back; her only purpose now was to get the best of care, the best of everything, for the only person in the world she loved. "Please, take me to him."

When she saw the wires and tubes inserted into her grandson, his eyes taped shut in preparation for surgery, she swayed. Her heart fluttered, the palpitation a reminder of her consultant's warnings. Although what did any of that matter now?

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High above the wards, the theatres, the warren of corridors and offices, Adam stood radiating rage and guilt. Legs set wide, arms outstretched head thrown back. His voice exploded to the heavens. "_Let me take him to Hell, let me finish it here and now!" _He hesitated. He knew he was heard. The sound touched the ether, ringing clear in the ears of fate, disturbing the ebb and flow of destinies. He knew not how it could be done, only that it could. So in a tone quieter, but no less powerful, he spoke his bargain, laid his oath before the providence. _"I vow I will go where I was meant, and there pay for my sins, but let him pay also. I will be his fate and he mine. Allow her life. I will rid the world of our blighted presence, but she must live, mother her child, serve where she may. She is a force for good, keep her. Let he and I be gone to our overdue lot." _

But all was silence. No thunder twisted the night, no lightening burnt the sky. He stood still in the quiet of his misery.

Man is the master of his own fate; his own actions plot his future in the world. For centuries Adam had watched the vagaries of humanity parade before him. He had seen good men yield to the mob, persuaded to cruelty by tribal prejudice that robbed them of good sense. But he had also witnessed honour freely chosen above gain, love triumph in gentle quietness over thoughtless and empty passions.

Whatever stood outside the realm of humankind seemed not to direct, but merely facilitate or impede, to bring forth the best or worst of qualities, refining in fire or ice the spirits that it nurtured.

Downcast, Adam left the roof. No help from whatever gave him life meant he must protect his new family as best he could.

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Letty's unconscious mind lurched from feeling to sound to…dreams. A low mist of bluebells at her ankles as she walked to the mill stream, the smell of damp spring gorse as she neared the pathway to the orchard. Soso giggling and rolling on the grassy bank playing a private game. And there, she could see him laying his back against a tree, smiling as he watched the child at play. Oh, this was home, this was where she should be.

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"Hold on, her numbers are up. Check that for me. Where's the…"

As Adam entered the large Resus room, he saw the flurry of activity around Letty's cubicle, saw the old lady, frail and lost, saw the Shade as it turned confused from Letty to the body he so lusted to occupy.

The old woman looked up at him. She smiled weakly and turned back to her grandson. Her chest was tight; she had no will to speak to others.

Then they both heard the sudden raised voice "She's arresting, _now_ people!"

For a full moment Adam stood stunned, till he caught the look of appalled awareness on the face of the Shade as it shrank back with disgust from a ghastly prospect.

_"But I would have the boy, I have wish no for a lepers stinking hide."_

"You'll have none of them," Adam growled striding forward. The enormity of what he must do appalled him. Just as gaining the body of the dying soldier had been a mystery to him, so the capturing of his former master's ghoulish spirit had him blundering on. He glimpsed the uncertain, but took his chance to block Letty from the Shade.

"_But I want the boy!"_ The words were whined, a child forbidden a longed for toy. For the first time ever Adam saw the genuine doubt and what he thought might be fear on the face of his nemesis.

In a blur of fetid air the ghastly presence was atop the unwitting body of Rob Locke, its face twisted in rage. "_You were supposed to die you cretinous piece of frogspawn. Die, I order you to die!" _He tried to clutch at the young man's throat but sank instead into nothingness. Adam almost laughed, the sight so ludicrous, but he remembered his own fight to enter the body he craved. Remembered the painful suddenness with which he finally tumbled into this life.

"There are too many people here!" A disgruntled nurse collided with Adam as she stepped back. "Please, if you'd wait outside, we'll call you as soon as there's any news."

The Shade looked up, realisation that he may not get exactly what he wanted dawned. "_Then I shall have the slut…"_ He sprang to the floor colliding with the dazed grandmother.

She turned, eyes wide, struggled for breath. Pain radiated across her shoulder and down her arm. "Oh, lord not now, please not now." With a small sigh Alicia Locke tumbled to the floor. She was dying.

The spirit looked about bemused as the brilliance of the old woman's life force surged from her.

With a jerk he snapped forward, eyes wide. He who did not need air gasped painfully for it.

Adam watched, at first in confusion, then in fear. Was this to be the awful rebirth of his hated adversary?

And the truth dawned.

Death was clawing back its own.

_"No, no…this is not…life, I want…" _Indignant hands reached towards Adam but made no contact. As the intensity of the light grew it captured the cloudy form of natures vile deviation, and consumed him in easy, sliding pieces.

"What the fuck? Christ, someone get her into recovery!"

But it was too late. Adam watched as the light bloom from her, the force that powered her blood, her muscle, and her bone, blazed then was gone, taking the evil that had been Vaisey with it.


	27. Chapter 27

Well here it is the last episode of my Bourne Trilogy fic (?) Thank you to Jen for her invaluable help and patience with me and my ineptitudes. xxxxxxxxx

A Ghost Story 27

Adam sat in his car, eyes closed. Was he a fool to be here? He leant forward, draped his arm about the steering wheel, and stared out at the landscape before him, examining it.

He knew this place. Oh, he knew this place…

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Soso waved furiously to her mother from the back seat of her grandparent's car. Letty blew stoic kisses and felt the void in her grow a little larger.

For the first time in the six months since the accident she was alone.

The idea of a little holiday for Sophie had been her mother's, it was sound. A week at the seaside before school started would be good for her baby. She'd been through so much, having an indulged week with doting grandparents was a good way to give her less disturbing memories to begin 'proper' school. All Letty had to do now was get through that week without her child's steadying presence.

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The ancient apple tree in the cottage back garden drew her. Sitting under its low spindly branches soothed her somehow; she loved how the open spread of the little tree looked like a cupping hand waiting to be filled.

Dragging her fingers along the natural curves, breathing deep she pulled in the tart scent of the tree's sap and over-ripe fruit. She slipped down till she knelt were the trunk burrowed into the earth.

This place was not especially pretty, nothing special in fact. It had the look of an old orchard devoid of most of its fruit trees. To one side, a stone potting shed in need of repair, a rusty lawnmower propped up an old bike, the remains of a once grand wrought iron bench tilted its side, the intricate ironwork grown through with bindweed. This was just a disused corner of the estate that led down to the open fields of golden barley, but it felt like…Well, she wasn't quite sure what it felt like. Sanctuary perhaps?

The last months had been a jumble of confusing paperwork and lawyers. Rob had recovered from most of his injuries with the help of his 'no-longer-ex-wife-to-be' Isabella. She had decided he was a wounded angel who needed her and dutifully stepped in; rounding up the best money could buy to heal her heroic husband. Where his heroism actually lay, Letty was unsure, but he'd been scooped off to Barbados, his recuperation assured. It was one less problem for Letty to deal with.

And then there was Adam, or more to the point, there was no Adam. He'd gone.

His soft loving whispers that Vaisey was no more, that she and Sophie where safe at last and they could begin their life anew should have released her from the past. It hadn't. As she lay in her hospital bed all she could see was pain and fear. For nearly a millennium that evil had persisted, how could she believe the tender pledge of new freedom and happiness, that Vaisey suddenly was no more?

And then she told him to go.

Not for the first time in the last six months Letty felt the tightness in her chest, the tears welling behind her eyes. She hadn't watch him leave. Sue had held her hand and cried with her. Romantic that she was, her friend had not understood Letty's reasoning and told her so. But there seemed no other way to truly end it.

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The landscape was the same; a slight incline of the fields, the orchard at its rise seemed gone, or at least hidden by a pretty cottage, wisteria climbing around its porch. The river still meandered, wider now but still true to the course he knew. The hamlet was gone, replaced by sculpted parkland and ornamental trees. The manor house was now a mansion, all Palladian columns and elegantly tall windows. No sign of wattle and daub, thatched roof, or the great blackened oak door.

Aye, this had been their home and, for a short time at least, the site of his greatest happiness. So the Fates had brought them full circle. He looked down and a smile of soft remembrance tilted his narrow lips. There was purpose to all that happened, that was the truth of it.

Abruptly he sat straight. This was a certainty she had to acknowledge: Their path was set.

Almost before he knew it he was across the lane, jumping a metal farm gate and striding towards the place where once her orchard had overlooked barley fields.

She would be there.

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Turning to late summer sun, Letty tried not to think of him, not to acknowledge how much she wanted him. Oh, but it hurt. Yet still she punished herself. There was nothing she would rather do than lay with him. To feel his breath on her skin, let his hands take charge of her pleasure.

All that went before, the whole magical mystery tour of fear, pain and desolation, and what did she want most, what was she thinking about? God, but she was shallow.

Sitting back on her heels, Letty chewed at her lip. How much time had she wasted being afraid, letting worry eat her up, scared of her own feelings, her own shadow? Always terrified of not being able to give Sophie a decent life, frightened that Rob would turn up and she'd give into him out of sheer frustration?

Then He was there, taking the air from any room he was in, giving her dreams, making her want him. But oh, what shit he brought with him…

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Slowing his stride he saw her kneeling on the ground beside the narrow trunk of an old, low wizened tree. The dress she wore was light and summery; a shade of blue so pale it might have been white. Bare feet peeped out beneath the hem and her hair fell in small curls from its careless knot. She was the girl again; Arlette in her shift sitting in her orchard on a late summer's morning.

"How now lady, why so sad?" He smiled and said softly, "Is your lover gone from you?"

Letty spun awkwardly and came forward on her knees with a jolt.

"I…didn't hear…" She knew she was blushing; the thoughts about his hands on her still warm. Now she was staring at those hands.

Moving forward he caught her shoulders, desperate to touch her. "I thought you were recovered, do your injuries still trouble you?"

Letty panicked, twisting away from him.

"My touch is still unwelcome then?" Stepping back, his face showed hurt. "I'll go."

"No, don't! I'm fine!" Pushing herself to her feet, holding onto the tree for support. "Of course it's a surprise. I just mean…I'm surprised. I thought…" The words rushed out. "Why are you here?" The tautness in her belly had formed into recognisable excitement now. He had come.

"You needed time to restore your health, to adjust. It seemed sensible to allow you that time." He was now a man holding tight to his need. "I may be greedy for you, but I'm not a complete dullard. I waited for you to be ready." He wanted to kiss her mouth, forget all that went before. "But I'll not be rejected again."

"I won't be such a fool again…" Letty tried to cover her smile, then carefully took his hand and kissed the broad knuckles.

"Don't…If you will not have me then tell me so. Do not tease me with mild affection." He tried to back away, defending his manly pride, but it was half-hearted

She held fast, brought his hand to her cheek,and laughed. "Oh Lord, but I have missed you."

Neither of them moved, just stared, searching the other's face for doubt, for signs that this time there was nothing hidden in the shadows, no subtle reasoning, no imagined faults. This time was theirs. Even the Fates, whose obvious jealousy had held them apart for so long, were impotent.

He ducked down, snatching an impatient kiss. She giggled, lifted herself on tiptoe, and replied in kind.

Then all was a muddle of touching, his hands holding her face, hers raking his hair. Arms searching for ways to hold their bodies closer. Mouths toyed between bittersweet, suckling kisses, bites, and shy smiles.

Walking her backwards towards the old tree, he held her there and chuckled, it was a low growl of a sound. "Sweet Christ woman… Let me love you, or for pity's sake release me."

"I'll never let you go, not now."

"Then I shall needs must love you." His large hands slipped to her waist, sliding knowingly down to squeeze the fullness of her bottom.

"Here, now?" she asked, but she knew the answer.

"Where is more fitting?" He raised her to him as naturally as if he had always done so, as if the desolate years had been no more than more than faulted dreams. "Where indeed?" he lifted her up till she was sitting back in the cradle of the rough, sweet-smelling branches.

She could have tried to persuade to him wait, settled for more formal assurances of love and faithfulness. Plan a future instead of acting on their natural inclinations. It would have been the prudent course, possibly the actions of ripened souls.

But they had skirted happiness for so long such delays were meaningless. They belonged together; there was no question of it.

The kisses were now more measured, fashioned to tempt and tease, each one baiting the next with the promise of need fulfilled.

Letty fought to unfasten his jeans, but he stilled her hands and whispered, "Slow, my love, let us savour this time." Then he tasted her mouth in a deep, invading kiss.

Letty had no idea a mere kiss could cause her to slip into sensual free fall. But his tongue flitted about hers with mocking, knowing ease.

Retaliating she drew away, licked down his throat, sucked softly at his pulse, his groan was pitiful. Then her hand found him hard and his breath hissed out at the touch. She couldn't help but giggle into his neck, this was joyous and wonderful, every sensible thought had fled. The gnarled bark of the old tree ground against her back, but that discomfort couldn't drive out the ripple and swell that his fingertips caused as they found her pearl. Their urgency and delight was not tempered by good sense and future plans. It was the desire born of love, uncluttered, honest love.

When he entered her it was not smooth or elegantly done. Too many pieces of clothing still in place for sexual refinement, too much physical need for cleverness or finesse. He stilled in the white heat of her and let out a long faltering sigh, she was filled, and that was almost enough to bring him completion.

Letty was watching his face, the flexing of his jaw as he fought to steady his craving, her heart pumped furiously. The feel of him deep in her, had she been rational, was painful. The sweetly stretching burn should have caused her to cry out, but this was a satisfying torture that carried delightful promise.

Slowly and carefully, free to touch where he willed now the tree supported her, fingertips slipped on the exposed skin of her throat and stroked a downward course. He reached her breasts and cupped them, bent and kissed their rise, nudged the loose summer fabrics away to taste and relish the peaked nipples.

She held to the branches behind her, lost to sensation.

Then he moved in her.

The roll of his hips was almost feline, his teeth nipped at her earlobe, hands kneading the softness of her arse, coaxing her to respond with equal languid ease.

But Letty could bear no more, she twisted forward on him, and the sudden slam of her climax caught them both by surprise.

And in an instant all changed.

With a low rumble of irritation, he pulled out, and rammed back. Letty clung on as the strokes became thrusts that took her breath away.

"Tell me…we are one now. Tell me," he rasped.

"Yesssss…" She was no longer capable of coherent speech. The coil within her tightened again to its upmost point, no pause, not even build to the next release, just the simple exquisite shredding of her nerves. She screamed out his name and he came, the sound he made all but a sob.

Their still fused bodies heaved in halting gasps for air as they hung suspended in faultless contentment.

Letty vaguely thought of the protection they should have used, but the idea left her, now she was conscious of the scrapes the raw branches had given her. "My bum hurts."

Grinning proudly he lifted her from the tree's embrace, his cock slipped from her and he carefully tucked it away. "Aye, a fitting place, but perhaps less than comfortable?" Looking down at her he couldn't help but smile. "How often I have seen you here, sitting with your ledger on your lap." He took her hand in his. "Fingers stained with ink, your wits alight with figures." Laughing softly he brought those fingers to his lips. "And no mind for me." Then he kissed each one with care.

"But you wouldn't let me work," Letty sighed. Then it took her: This would not do. Reclaiming her hands, she smoothed down her dress, looked up at him frowning. "I have no more patience for this." Standing back and very formally holding out her hand she said, "Guy de Gisbourne, I would have you as my husband once more."

His initial look of hurt was rapidly replaced by one of surprise then, satisfaction. Grinning he crushed her to him. "Oh, aye little bird. Once more," he growled. "Once more."

They were found.


End file.
